Pending 52+ minutes to establish connectivity...

We are so young! We've nothing true yet to say...

I'm stuck presently in between feeling I know something about the world--what with its widest range of emotions to offer--and then again a creeping sensation dawns on me that delusion of youth must surely be part of my own apparent knowledge. What the fuck does that mean? Only that I think I'm not an example of the socially-decrepit folks that can glance-without-glancing at a person that walks into the same small room with them--while I'm just as surely not able yet to function fully in the presence of a life-revelation, made by a person I don't know well enough to know how to console. Somehow, I feel I've yet to earn the right to try to express that type of condolence that this person would deserve, in that I suddenly only know of this person's life, one sad and profoundly personal thing--not a single ordinary moment of his everyday life can I claim a part in, so how could I even begin to comment casually on a moment that has changed him forever, even as a fellow human being?

But still, how could I ever imagine a separation such as this, between two distinct lives? Isn't it so, that each life is just as separate from one as it is another? With this so, my so-called separation becomes meaningless since it does not afflict discriminately, and instead holds true for every creature on this earth. Might as well then be counted out, as far as comparative calculations go... So why can I not recognize this on a practical level and meet every person's glimpse-of-life, as they choose to share them, evenly, and with the certainty that my own would be just as foreign to their eyes--especially when every day a new language is somehow learned by ears once deaf to it?

Well, here's the real bugger of the situation--we believe ourselves to be timed animals, in a very concrete sense. Death appears to await us!--just as much as do deadlines and done deals. We think we feel ourselves limited in this way, and each moment of every houred day appears to reveal this to us unarguably though unwittingly. We're on our way in only until we must be on our way back out again. The only thing I think we might miss, which I do believe we must make time to describe at least here, is the chance to acknowledge each other. Those moments so much more than making eye contact, are akin to those faraway gazes peering off from the shore at you, while you and your crew's time-hungry captain is passing one more unnamed landmass by. Those gazes, those that happen to meet yours, they are the only good evidence you have that the most primal mysteries of this world may lay boldly in the lives of every person you'll never know. How do we likewise pass by even one opportunity to seize the tiny bits of seconds we're given, and try our very goddamnedest to make ourselves known!--in a godwilling deliberate attempt at understanding the life of someone else?

Man. For my sake more than/as much as yours, I hope any of that makes sense.

Faretheewell folk,
-Talthea (10/5/08)


“I aspire to be a recluse with a beautiful view.”
"Don't say that.‭”
“Why not‭? ‬It has nothing to do with you.‭”
“Of course it does.‭”
“When are you coming back‭?”
“I'm not.‭”
“Then it doesn't.‭”

Our last conversation is more real than any of the memories leading up to it. It's always like that for me, once something is gone it's as if it were never there at all. My recollection fades with the passing of time--it's only this that doesn't change. But at least I know I'll soon stop thinking of these final words. Only when we fill the void do we realize how empty we really were. Whoever needed that kind of knowledge?

Alright. So apparently I'm kind of mad. Hmm...

My pact is to exclude expectation wherever possible--but the one instance that this exclusion doesn't touch upon is when that expectation is given explicitly: when I am told that something will happen/or be done/or is the way someone feels...I expect this to be true, or else truly fulfilled.

This is not to say that I don't also expect things to change, whether they be feelings or plans or minds. And I'm all for that too, when the changes are positive or of a greater priority. But the original expectation is not void until equally explicitly so--if you profess the intention to perform an action, then you must also profess the retraction of this intention. Or else what? Well, or else you're just a fucking liar. What else?

I expected him to call. Or else I expected him to be unable to do so... Fuck.

Faretheewell folk,
-Talthea (9/30/08)