Fly killing and piercings
There are flies in my unit. It started with one, whom I skooshed. Then today there were like four flying around. Grr! So I sprayed the whole place with tea-tree oil infused water to slow 'em down. I tried to catch them, but they were too crafty
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So, well, uh, I really have no comment about your posting, I just want to drop in and say hi. As I prepare to head out to Europe, I am seeking as much contact with friends and loved ones as possible. Though I am going, and I will be fulfilling a dream in doing so, I will be gone for three weeks, and I will miss the people with whom I speak regularly, and you are one, of course.
It appears from your recent posts that you have a lot going on with school and social life and preparing to move soon. Seems like you are doing the hard work of life and Manhood. In one of your posts you mention pain and beauty. The two are so often a part of the same thing, sometimes not. Could it be that if we find beauty and it is easy and always available, it loses its shine and intrigue and becomes less and eventually common. I noticed that when I was last in Vancouver. Each vista, every corner is a new angle from which to view magnificent natural beauty, and the "locals" go on about their days, seemingly unmoved by the grandeur around them. Of course, being from Kansas with our magnificent skies, I see that with my own folks around here. Point is, that often the pain in the beauty we treasure comes in our attempts to access it, our desire to linger, to hold and touch, to smell and taste and the knowledge that other things in life prevent our complete immersion. That pain also makes the beauty more special, a genuine treasure so that when we are able to linger, every second is a lifetime, and when we are able to hold and to touch, our senses are heightened unlike at any other time, and when we are given the scents and the tastes, we do not forget the longing that brought us to such wonderful moments, such immeasurable delights. A friend has pointed out a French verb to me, "chantepleure," which is something akin to singing and crying at once. It is like waking with a lover in your arms, a lover you treasure and feeling so magnificent, and at that moment knowing it is the last moment, the last morning like that for a very long time. Beauty must not be akin to pain, but so often it is, because to remove ourselves from the beauty to go on and do those things of life that must be done is painful, sometimes even torturous. Myself, when real beauty is encountered, I find it painful, for at the moment I realize the beauty and joy, I am aware that it is fleeting, and I find tears in my eyes. And on those special, truly special heaven sent days, beauty holds me and caresses me and cries with me, kisses away my tears, and I his, and shares my pain and renews my strength. And then, yes then, I know that life is worth living and the pain gives me measure for experiencing the beauty. And again, I long to hold the beauty in my arms, to see it and see myself reflected in it, to have its scent linger on my flesh. But then, acutely the pain arises, for that moment too will be fleeting.
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Today, as I finish off this poetry project, I think of many tims in my life when I have cried for joy and sorrow at the same time. I feel blessed that I have the ability to do that, for I no some who cannot.
I still get excited about the 'non pain' beauty. Just yesterday I had so much fun getting wet in puddles on the way home, and the sky was just... striking. Purple and green and grey. I.e. like the sky so often is at this time of year. But it still made me laugh.
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