(no subject)

Yay! A journal fu:r mich! Lovely lovely. Vayleen made me a journal. It’s been a precarious day, with precarious emotions and a lot of ups and downs. Last night harbored panic, today loss and love, and my wonderful sister. Not loss –in- love mind you, he’s still here, as promised. I’m well kept…

But the journal! Little ruby gem among my things to collect. So I’ll have this achromatic website, and a red journal. It’s only fitting… of course, you people wont hope to see my paper journal. That artifact is one far more sacred in my existence.

So, here I am, with a livejournal unexpectedly. Oh, the things I can pitch in here. It’s me and my pockets, me and my random relocation of objects… especially shiny ones. All the time, in the morning, I’ll pick things up… candles, marbles, charms, small things. And put them in my pockets… Or in boxes, just so that the boxes have something in them. You should see the inside of my car… the trinkets of my life lie strewn about the world. That’s how this is going to be.

Afterall, we need to do –something- with all of this stuff… And, well, there’s this void see…

Metastasis

Love escalates me, my heart soars with the breath of another soul as some eternal fuel, yet strange losses plague the fray of my thought and I’m torn anew into the thorny shadows of a world I feel little part of.

He was a wolf that used to sulk an occasional dream; words alone, scattered like sparkling dust amongst the usual matte darkness of cyberspace. There were no eyes and there was no voice other than those I’d fabricated for him through my own fancies. Music, art, violence, character, drugs, laughter… all spoken through, sworn like cut sailors. He’d made it into my paper journal. My letters to him –half became- a journal in themselves… trust through disconnection. And yet, that tie may well be shattered, as well as a very corporeal, and thusly very fragile, heartbeat. I fear how much it will match the spirit within the lupine breast.

With ever birth that occurs on this earth the line thins between individual and statistic.

What’s the current tally? Six billion and counting? Horrifying. I’ll never hear of it here… not in Alaska. If there were a death in Colorado, I’d never know. I’m going to continue reaching through the wind, breathing lies to myself and prayers to anything that will hear me… that is, if it is my place to exert influence over the fate of someone I’ve never touched but through words even thinner than those in runny ink, on runny paper. Words lost all together at close of day and deletion of RAM file.

Wrapped in that wind, just beyond the walls of my quiet home, lies another… My angel, my tiger. Once more… Love escalates me. As one end of the scale plunges into oblivion, with anguished caveat to the absence of lasting pleasure among the vices of the universe, the other uplifts resplendently into a realm of thought I’d never even paused to consider possible, yet alone hoped to attain. He awaits me, which I’m sure will ultimately draw this entry to a close… I’m vexed. I’m vexed with the sudden release of something, someone, I’d been waiting for in one aspect of my life, and bemused breathlessly at the inalienably close presence of someone shining in another facet of my soul. Inspiration, anodyne… My mind still spins with the thought of him.

I’ll end it here… it’s not going anywhere but circles of thought, and circles of thought. Thought will continue to circle, either into restless silence or abrupt shift of motion due to evidence. I hope for the latter, even if its bad news. At least I’ll know about the wolf. The tiger I know, and trust fully, will remain by my side.