e's wEekly brain dump

Here then is a Haiku. One I wrote years and years ago-- and not particularly good but apropos given my direction with today's post...

music lifts my heart
from a deep pit of ashes
the remnants of death

I can't speak for anyone but myself but music does a great number of things for me, which is why I find so much meaning and context in my life through music. I began this post in the afternoon, and returning late in the evening, Huckabee on Fox covered the same material. It would seem that research has been done into what kind of music soldiers have been listening to to get into the kind of mindset that allows them to enter combat... to set the mental-stage for 'kill or be killed'.

Music then, it would seem, is a multi-faceted muse. To some she brings fire, to others she brings resolve, to some inspiration... and to others?

Meredith Brooks wrote a song called What Would Happen that, though it got little airplay, is the best tune on her hit album containing the more popular tune, Bitch. What makes this song so provocative (and no one's saying Bitch isn't provocative) are the questions it raises. And with them that fear co-mingled with lust everyone experiences at some point in their lives.

What would happen if we kissed?
Would your tongue slip past my lips?
Would you run away?
Would you stay?
Or would I melt into you?
Lust to lust?
Spontaneous - ly combust?

First time I heard this song I thought, 'Whoa! What's this chick doing in MY head!?' The verses were uniquely her experience, but the chorus... it's universal. It's primal, and it speaks to every heart whether it beats in the chest of a man or woman. I keep a list of songs I deem perfect for sex, and this one ranks pretty high.

Now, knowing my penchant for assigning people to songs, and songs to people, do you think I've assigned this particular song to a particular person?

* * *

I spent the bulk of late afternoon and evening watching TLC, watching the super-morbidly obese struggle to survive the milieu they've staged for themselves. At the last was a return visit to David Smith, the 650lb virgin-- sans 400 lbs --and his struggle to navigate the world he spent his entire life watching from the outside... looking in, as it were. I'm nowhere near as over-weight as David was-- a loss of eighty pounds would see me at my target weight. David had to lose 400. I only have to lose 80.

I have the same problems he does, socially speaking (though for different reasons), and I only need to lose 20% of what he lost-- I too am learning to socialize. No, I haven't spent the last ten or fifteen years in a flesh cocoon or morbidly obese proportions, but I have spent the last thirty-three years in a different kind of cocoon.

* * *

To quote another great tune... by The Moody Blues:

I'm looking for someone to change my life
I'm looking for a miracle in my life
And if you could see what it's done to me
To lose the the love I knew
Could safely lead me to
The land that I once knew
To learn as we grow old
The secrets of our souls

And at 49, I wonder if I'm running out of time.

qustions of burden and prisons

Questions are a burden to others.

Answers are a prison to oneself.

our lives as drama

As explained by Kurt Vonnegut

“People have been hearing fantastic stories since time began. The problem is, they think life is supposed to be like the stories... But because we grew up surrounded by big dramatic story arcs in books and movies, we think our lives are supposed to be filled with huge ups and downs! So people pretend there is drama where there is none.”

So. According to Kurt, there is no drama in your life... it simply is what it is. Nothing to get mussed about. Just deal. After all, it all comes out in the wash anyway, right... accept for blood and grass-stains.

One day Alice came to a fork in the road and saw a Cheshire cat in a tree. "Which road do I take?" she asked. "Where do you want to go?" was his response. "I don't know," Alice answered. "Then," said the cat, "it doesn't matter."

- Lewis Carroll

Isn't that life to a tee? "I don't know." What with all the foreign bodies (perceptions of reality) pumped into our minds as to what life is all about, and the best practices for life; as devised by writers who are probably more neurotic than the average lab rat sitting in the theater or in front of the TV... where to you want to go?

2011 is coming up. Let's all endeavor to "go" get an intentional life based on reality. Fantasy is always a letdown.

science versus God

"LET ME EXPLAIN THE problem science has with Jesus Christ." The atheist professor of philosophy pauses before his class and then asks one of his new students to stand. "You're a Christian, aren't you, son?"
"Yes, sir."
"So you believe in God?"
"Absolutely."
"Is God good?"
"Sure! God's good."
"Is God all-powerful? Can God do anything?"
"Yes."
"Are you good or evil?"
"The Bible says I'm evil."
The professor grins knowingly. "Ahh! THE BIBLE!" He considers for a moment. "Here's one for you. Let's say there's a sick person over here and you can cure him. You can do it. Would you help them? Would you try?"
"Yes sir, I would."
"So you're good...!"
"I wouldn't say that."
"Why not say that? You would help a sick and maimed person if you could...in fact most of us would if we could....God doesn't."
[No answer]
"He doesn't, does he? My brother was a Christian who died of cancer even though he prayed to Jesus to heal him. How is this Jesus good? Hmmm? Can you answer that one?"
[No answer]
The elderly man is sympathetic. "No, you can't, can you?" He takes a sip of water from a glass on his desk to give the student time to relax. "In philosophy, you have to go easy with the new ones. Let's start again, young fella. Is God good?"
"Er... Yes."
"Is Satan good?"
"No."
"Where does Satan come from?"
The student falters. "From... God..."
"That's right. God made Satan, didn't he?" The elderly man runs his bony fingers through his thinning hair and turns to the smirking student audience. "I think we're going to have a lot of fun this semester, ladies and gentlemen." He turns back to the Christian. "Tell me, son. Is there evil in this world?"
"Yes, sir."
"Evil's everywhere, isn't it? Did God make everything?"
"Yes."
"Who created evil?"
[No answer]
"Is there sickness in this world? Immorality? Hatred? Ugliness. All the terrible things - do they exist in this world? "
The student squirms on his feet. "Yes."
"Who created them?"
[No answer]
The professor suddenly shouts at his student, "WHO CREATED THEM? TELL ME, PLEASE!" The professor closes in for the kill and climbs into the Christian's face. In a still small voice, he asked, "God created all evil, didn't He, son?"
[No answer]
The student tries to hold the steady, experienced gaze and fails. Suddenly the lecturer breaks away to pace the front of the classroom like an aging panther. The class is mesmerized. "Tell me," he continues, "How is it that this God is good if He created all evil throughout all time?" The professor swishes his arms around to encompass the wickedness of the world. "All the hatred, the brutality, all the pain, all the torture, all the death and ugliness and all the suffering created by this good God is all over the world, isn't it, young man?"
[No answer]
"Don't you see it all over the place? Huh?" Pause. "Don't you?" The professor leans into the student's face again and whispers, "Is God good?"
[No answer]
"Do you believe in Jesus Christ, son?"
The student's voice betrays him and cracks. "Yes, professor. I do."
The old man shakes his head sadly. "Science says you have five senses you use to identify and observe the world around you. Have you ever seen Jesus?"
"No, sir. I've never seen Him."
"Then tell us if you've ever heard your Jesus?"
"No, sir. I have not."
"Have you ever felt your Jesus, tasted your Jesus or smelt your Jesus... in fact, do you have any sensory perception of your God whatsoever?"
[No answer]
"Answer me, please."
"No, sir, I'm afraid I haven't."
"You're AFRAID... you haven't?"
"No, sir."
"Yet you still believe in him?"
"...yes..."
"That takes FAITH!" The professor smiles sagely at the underling. "According to the rules of empirical, testable, demonstrable protocol, science says your God doesn't exist. What do you say to that, son? Where is your God now?"
[The student doesn't answer]
"Sit down, please."
The first Christian sits...defeated.
Another Christian raises his hand. "Professor, may I address the class?"
The professor turns and smiles. "Ah, yet another Christian in the vanguard! Come, come, young man. Speak some proper wisdom to the gathering."
The Christian looks around the room. "Some interesting points you are making, sir. Now I've got a question for you. Is there such thing as heat?"
"Yes," the professor replies. "There's heat."
"Is there such a thing as cold?"
"Yes, son, there's cold too."
"No, sir, there isn't."
The professor's grin freezes. The room suddenly becomes very quiet. The second Christian continues.
"You can have lots of heat, even more heat, super-heat, mega-heat, white heat, a little heat or no heat, but we don't have anything called 'cold'. We can hit 273 degrees below zero, which is no heat, but we can't go any further after that. There is no such thing as cold, otherwise we would be able to go colder than -273°C. You see, sir, cold is only a word we use to describe the absence of heat. We cannot measure cold. Heat we can measure in thermal units because heat is energy. Cold is not the opposite of heat, sir, just the absence of it."
Silence. A pin drops somewhere in the classroom.
"Is there such a thing as darkness, professor?"
"That's a dumb question, son. What is night if it isn't darkness? What are you getting at...?"
"So you say there is such a thing as darkness?"
"Yes..."
"You're wrong again, sir. Darkness is not something, it is the absence of something. You can have low light, normal light, bright light, flashing light... but if you have no light constantly you have nothing and it's called darkness, isn't it? That's the meaning we use to define the word. In reality, Darkness isn't. If it were, you would be able to make darkness darker and give me a jar of it. Can you... give me a jar of darker darkness, professor?"
Despite himself, the professor smiles at the young effrontery before him. This will indeed be a good semester. "Would you mind telling us what your point is, young man?"
"Yes, professor. My point is, your philosophical premise is flawed to start with and so your conclusion must be in error...."
The professor goes toxic. "Flawed...? How dare you...!"
"Sir, may I explain what I mean?"
The class is all ears.
"Explain... ohhhhh, explain..." The professor makes an admirable effort to regain control. Suddenly he is affability himself. He waves his hand to silence the class, for the student to continue.
"You are working on the premise of duality," the Christian explains. "That for example there is life and then there's death; a good God and a bad God. You are viewing the concept of God as something finite, something we can measure. Sir, science cannot even explain a thought. It uses electricity and magnetism but has never seen, much less fully understood them. To view death as the opposite of life is to be ignorant of the fact that death cannot exist as a substantive thing. Death is not the opposite of life, merely the absence of it." The young man holds up a newspaper he takes from the desk of a neighbor who has been reading it. "Here is one of the most disgusting tabloids this country hosts, professor. Is there such a thing as immorality?"
"Of course there is, now look..."
"Wrong again, sir. You see, immorality is merely the absence of morality. Is there such thing as injustice? No. Injustice is the absence of justice. Is there such a thing as evil?" The Christian pauses. "Isn't evil the absence of good?"
The professor's face has turned an alarming color. He is so angry he is temporarily speechless.
The Christian continues, "If there is evil in the world, professor, and we all agree there is, then God, if He exists, must be accomplishing a work through the agency of evil.1 What is that work God is accomplishing? The Bible tells us it is to see if each one of us will, of our own free will, choose good over evil."2
The professor bridles. "As a philosophical scientist, I don't view this matter as having anything to do with any choice; as a realist, I absolutely do not recognize the concept of God or any other theological factor as being part of the world equation because God is not observable."
The Christian replies, "I would have thought that the absence of God's moral code in this world is probably one of the most observable phenomena going, Newspapers make billions of dollars reporting it every week! Tell me, professor. Do you teach your students that they evolved from a monkey?"
"If you are referring to the natural evolutionary process, young man, yes, of course I do."
"Have you ever observed evolution with your own eyes, sir?"
The professor makes a sucking sound with his teeth and gives his student a silent, stony stare.
"Professor. Since no one has ever observed the process of evolution at work and cannot even prove that this process is an on-going endeavor, are you not teaching your opinion, sir? Are you now not a scientist, but a preacher?"
"I'll overlook your impudence in the light of our philosophical discussion. Now, have you quite finished?" the professor hisses.
"So you don't accept God's moral code to do what is righteous?"
"I believe in what is - that's science!"
"Ahh! SCIENCE!" the student's face splits into a grin. "Sir, you rightly state that science is the study of observed phenomena. Science too is a premise which is flawed..."
"SCIENCE IS FLAWED..?" the professor sputters.
The class is in uproar. The Christian remains standing until the commotion has subsided. "To continue the point you were making earlier to the other student, may I give you an example of what I mean?"
The professor wisely keeps silent.
The Christian looks around the room. "Is there anyone in the class who has ever seen the professor's mind?" The class breaks out into laughter. The Christian points towards his elderly, crumbling tutor. "Is there anyone here who has ever heard the professor's mind... felt the professor's mind, touched or smelt the professor's mind? No one appears to have done so." The Christian shakes his head sadly. "It appears no one here has had any sensory perception of the professor's mind whatsoever. Well, according to the rules of empirical, stable, demonstrable protocol, science, I DECLARE that the professor has no mind."
The class is in chaos.
The Christian sits.

* * *

If you didn't get it, here is a brief synopsis. The atheist argument is that since God created everything, He is responsible for the creation of evil. However, "evil" is a word that we use to describe certain things that happen to us (most of which are caused by other people). In reality, it is not a physically created thing at all and, therefore, does not fall within the realm of something created by God. So, the argument is fundamentally flawed. Evil is allowed by God so that free will beings can choose between good (i.e., God) or evil (absence of God). Without evil, it is not possible to choose between good and evil, and the universe would have no ultimate purpose.

selfless, sacrificial love

I found this while Stumbling across the web... it's beautiful. And it's a sentiment with which I can identify...

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms,
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers.
Thanks to your love a certain fragrance,
risen darkly from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride,
so I love you because I know no other way than this:
where I does not exist, nor you,
So close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
So close that your eyes close and I fall asleep.

-Pablo Neruda

Does anyone... CAN anyone truly love like this?

e's wEekly brain dump

I was made to remember and revisit this morning a post I left at another blog. It was brought to mind by a movie I watched this morning-- no, I did not go to church. The story was presented differently but the central truth remains: "Every man has both Love and Hate warring within him. Which one wins? the one you feed the most." It's a simple yet profound truth. It seems all of truth is simple. And it seems also that profundity is always found in the simplest of things.

And now, the re-visitation...

EVERYONE is born in sin. Sin being evil, everyone is inherently evil... that is to say, everyone has that "Seed of Propensity" planted in the soil of his heart. But to clarify "evil" : Killing unborn children is evil. Murdering 6 million Jews is evil, but so is lying. So is petty theft. So is selfishness. ALL sin is evil in God's eyes, which is why God felt it necessary to take on mortal flesh and perform what no human could...

Tendencies for good do lie in every human heart, but so too are tendencies for evil.

An old Indian warrior once related to a prairie preacher that inside him lived two dogs constantly at war with each other; one was light, the other dark. Curious, the preacher asked which one was winning. The old man replied, "The one I feed the most."

The same is true of us. We may be good at heart, by man's standard... we may feed, in the sight of men, the dog which represents our tendencies for good. But the other dog is still there, unvanquished.

Until Christ returns and redeems our bodies we will live in a perpetual state of war with the other dog.

* * *

I am still plagued by a deep depression. All of it stems from loneliness-- but then, that's not exactly right... Loneliness is an effect, not a cause. Searching deeper, the cause could be said to be a series of extremely poor decisions some 22 years ago-- but then those poor decisions could also be said to be the effects of loneliness as well. But then, that loneliness I felt 22 years ago likewise had a cause which might very well be due to a lack of confidence which stemmed from another bout of loneliness which coaxed me to seek the approval of others and attach my sense of self-worth to said approval. But then that again could be attributed to loneliness which resulted from the shame, and resultant loneliness I felt, because I stuttered as a boy... the truth of which was a constant source of mocking... which shut me down... which isolated me... which made me fearful... of making friends, of having girlfriends... and so, forty-three years after my first encounter with such mocking, and its resultant isolation-- my own personal gulag --I am right back where I started this thought. I am still plagued by a deep depression.

I have been here, in terms of locale, because of a series of very bad choices. First, I chose a quick fuck over the girl I really cared for, but was too afraid to tell her. I chose the girl who told me in no uncertain terms what she wanted. Second, I allowed this girl to move in and guide and control my every move. Third, I chose this girl over my family and ended up in a city eighty miles away. And I have been a stranger to my own family ever since.

The girl for which I abandoned my family and home, abandoned me a short three weeks after dragging me to this strange new town. So I learned my lesson. And I've been paying for it these last twenty-two years.

My problem is this: I chase after women who are emotionally unavailable. Of the three women who actively chased me, I ran from them all, but of the women I chose to chase, I have been left wanting each and every time. Had I allowed myself to be caught by any one of my three pursuers I'd not be where I am, emotionally of physically. And so I am depressed. And quite naturally so.

Because here I am again. And I have decisions to make; the most important of which is already made. But once I am free, what then? More loneliness? More depression? More feelings of inadequacy?

I must remember that there are two dogs warring within me. One is Love, the other is Hate. One Light, the other Darkness. I choose to feed the Light, and Love. But I also know how difficult it is to change those patterns that have shaped and guided us to this point.

* * *

In one of my many letters over the years to Mary Angel, there is one that still stands out, front and center, as the object of all my motivation. I cannot have Mary Angel, but I can have what God has prepared for me. I have undoubtedly missed that perfect someone He had in store, but I cannot think that He didn't already know I would make all the wrong decisions and so would have someone else reserved in contingency. So it is for her I write. Every letter. Every letter addressed to Mary Angel; every thought, wish, desire. Every story. Every poem... everything I have written is for that someone who God has given me. That I have yet to meet.

I am tired, I tell you. Tired. Depressed... tired of waiting. I've made my decision. Now it's time to begin implementation. It is time to be in a place where I can receive her fairly and honestly, without reservation, holding nothing back.

I am tired, but I'm also ready.

* * *

Because I am so tired, this poem stands out as a forward-looking question to her... whoever and wherever she is.

One-Hundred Years Entwining

Will I sleep one hundred years,
My first night ‘neath your summer eaves?
Will I cry, shed one hundred tears,
My sorrows clatter like autumn leaves?
Away from me ~ forever away
Your lips brushing my tears away
Fall into slumber, the sleep of peace
As in your arms I lay

Will I dream while embraced in you,
Coupled neath linens clean and new?
Wakened to find my dreams come true,
And lost within your eyes of blue
Sing to me a familiar song
Lips brush mine ~ our breath a song
Like the gentle sursurring sea
Rock me soft the whole night long

One hundred years may each night seem
Forever may each day so be
And parting, but a shadowy dream
That has no life in the love we see
Smiling true in eyes bright and shining
Lips caressing ~ wet, soft, and shining
Shuddering, and rising again to fall
Held in your embrace entwining

Will I sleep one hundred years?
Hands brush all my cares away?
Sorrow erased and gone my fears?
In your arms, and in peace lay?
Time and love will tell
Time and love will tell


ELAshley
18 March 2002, 1:10am
Revised:
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they live in middletown...

I'm tired, I tell you. Tired.

Even the simple task of buying everything on the list-- and nothing more save pineapple and bananas --gives rise to her bitching.

That's all I need to hear-- Hello. Goodbye. Disconnect. Retreat to here...

I'm tired, I tell you. Tired.


Here's a bit of verse... apropos to the moment.

It's understood
By every single person who'd be elsewhere if they could
So far, so good
And life's not unpleasant in their little neighborhood

And now I find I've been put into a Rush mood. Not for the uplifting lyrics of much of their music, but for Grace Under Pressure, to my mind the darkest of their albums.

Were I a brave man. I'd of pulled the trigger years ago. But I have more faith than I have anguish.

What happens to the dreams we're too afraid to seize hold of?

Dreams flow across the heartland
Feeding on the fire
Dreams transport desires
Drive you when you're down
Dreams transport the ones that need
To get out of town...

...They dream in Middletown

And from Richard Marx...

We used to walk down by the river
She loved to watch the sun go down
We used to walk along the river
And dream our way out of this town

I feel a leaving comin' on.

where E is..

...is where I now am. I can't think of anything better to label it than 'midlife crisis'. There is an anxiousness, a depression, a cacophony of emotions and angst that I can't shake... an emotional malaise that threatens to sweep everything away, pushing inland like a psychic tsunami. I can't believe how depressed I am right now... I just want to cry...

But what would that solve? It wouldn't make me feel any better... the pain would still be there. I would still be tired. I would still be lonely. I would still be unfulfilled...

I would still be unfulfilled


As is my wont I am listening to a song, over and over and over and over again.

Andrew Gold, 1978...

Passing Thing

Slowly sailing leaves
The children of the trees
Evicted by the wind
And can't return again

Young girl by a stream
Has lost her younger dreams
Her childhood will end
And won't return again

'Cause it's only a passing thing
It's only what time will bring
Though we are together thrown
We're all alone
We can't go home

And you only have a heart
To see that only love guide you

I am just a man
Following my heart
Following a flame
That never stays the same

                    ...

'Cause it's only a passing thing
It's only what time will bring
Though we are together thrown
We're all alone
We can't go home

And you only have a heart
To see that only love can guide you

Okay. I will write some now... off the top of my heart. It won't be as good as Andrew, but maybe it will be good enough...

Who Loved Me (And Let Me Go)

Oh how I miss you
How I miss your loving arms
How I miss the thought of you
The very sight of you
Who loved me long ago

Oh how I cherish you
How I cherish the memory of soft skin
Cherish the very thought of you
The very warmth of you
Who loved me then let me go

When all of this is done
When the world is gone away
Our world beneath a dying sun
My heart and soul written in the stars
Forever of you will say
How you broke my heart
Tore my soul apart
Left me to wander
A stone skipping cross
The blacknesses of time

                    ...

Oh how I desire you
Desire your long forgotten kiss
How I desire the memory of you
The very picture of you
Who loved me but let me go

When all of this is done
When the world is gone away
Our world beneath a dying sun
My heart and soul written in the stars
Forever of you will say
How you broke my heart
Tore my soul apart
And left me to wander
A stone skipping cross
The blacknesses of time

Oh how I weep for you
For all of time mourn you
Desire you
Miss you
Cherish you
Sweet Mary Angel
Oh how I love you

ELAshley
111709.064430.6
No matter how bad it is, I will not revise it. Ever

Who is she you ask?

She is the ideal. The kind of woman I will never see or meet again. She is the very image I look for in every woman I meet... and have always been left disappointed.

But it's only a passing thing, right? this 'midlife crisis' of mine?

Tell that to my heart.

e's wEekly brain dump

I never would have bothered otherwise, because I am loathe to like or appreciate anything Oprah Winfrey promotes-- this has nothing to do with skin color --but it was on the Disney Channel this morning and I had nothing else to do, so I watched Akeelah and the Bee. Laurence Fishburne and Angela Bassett? amazing actors both, so I was sure I could get something out of it. And that I did.

In my previous post I spoke of fear... of moving on... of fleeing in spite of the guns that awaited. Fear will keep a man in a situation he would otherwise flee the moment his situation is truly grasped. I know fear. So did Akeelah. And her instructor, Mr. Fishburne, told her to read a quote that was framed upon the wall of his office...

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our Light, not our Darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you NOT to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightening about shrinking so that other people won't feel unsure around you. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It is not just in some of us; it is in everyone. As we let our own Light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

--Marianne Williamson

I can find nothing wrong with this statement, but I can find something to add.

Like the three servants, each given differing amounts of talents by their master, we are charged to use what we are given to not only enrich the Lord who bestowed to us our talents, and to demonstrate our faithfulness to his command, but to also show his glory through the gifts he has given that others might be drawn to him. We can choose to bury our talents, but then our Lord is not enriched, we are become unfaithful, and our light does not shine.

Were we all given candles and we chose not to light them, what light then would shine to draw others to shelter? God gives us our gifts for a reason. To not light that candle, is to tell God he is wrong about you... that you couldn't possibly do what he already knows you can. It is fear that keeps the candle unlit, that buries our talents that none can be thereby edified. We fear the kind of success HE asks of us.

* * *

I have come to realize that as much as you might want something, that something may not want you. Sometimes you have to let it go, and set your sights on something else. Only pain can result from chasing what does not wish to be caught.

riding thE elephant

I spent five hours at the National Peanut Festival last night manning the station's tent, in the company of three folks who were veritable strangers. They are no longer strangers but that hardly means we are now friends. I learned some things about them, shared some things about me-- all that remains is for the fallout to occur. There is always fallout in opening up oneself to people you don't know well enough to trust.

It was another lesson in becoming someone new. But then, that's not exactly right. People never change... Ever... unless God does it; and even then, that old person isn't really gone. They're just covered with someone else's clothes... someone else's righteousness, but your old self can still wreak havoc in the lives of others and in your own. Someone has given you a new shirt, yes, but the skin beneath it is still the same... get it?

I met a soldier last night whose unit was the one that took out Uday and Qusay... Saddam's sons. He was wanting advice on getting into journalism-- he was getting ready to retrain for journalism within the US Army. I told him when he left the military to make sure he knew how to shoot and edit, maintain a decent demo, and apply at a smaller station to get some experience. It struck me how meek he appeared. Not that he looked weak or beaten, but rather he looked... unfulfilled, or perhaps in desperate need of a change. Life can do that. And I should know.

It's been a long time coming but I've reached a tipping point. And it is undeniably, unequivocally, a tipping point... a crux, if you will. I've felt a change coming for the last few years, and even more these last few months and weeks. But in just a matter of days I've come to realize the futility of hanging on to the relationship I've been "hanging on" to for the last 21 years.

Do I love her? Undeniably. Does she love me? I believe she does. But she will never marry me. And each and every day that passes only serves to reinforce the understanding that the misery I feel now being NOT married to her, would only multiply several-fold should we marry. I love her but I am miserable. She loves me but she is miserable.

I used to think that I could accept her unconditionally; love her in spite of the character flaws, and idiosyncrasies that totally turn me off. I used to think it was the lack of sex that kept me from being happily in love with her. But sex, I've come to realize, has nothing to do with whether or not I am happy in my relationship, such as it is. I don't feel valued. She speaks about me in my presence as though I were not in the room; as though she were speaking about me to someone else. She repeatedly speaks about the kind of man she needs, in front of me, as though I don't already provide those things she thinks she needs. But this last week she has, deliberately or unintentionally, sabotaged my efforts to leave this relationship. And I don't know whether to be furious or depressed.

Actually, I'm both.


Next to our tent at the festival, was an animal tent... dog shows, camels, and elephants to ride-- in a ring no more than 30 feet in diameter. I saw kids and their parents climbing a mounting ladder to settle themselves into a special saddle upon the elephant's back, and I suddenly felt sorry for the elephant. Is the elephant happy with its lot? What does a happy elephant look like? Is it content to ferry kicking screaming children around in a tight circle hour after hour?

People... humans... think themselves so superior, but what makes them think such? Because they can leash a wild animal and force it to the indignities of servitude? How often do we hear of elephants "going rogue" at a circus? escaping the tents and rampaging through the city streets before some police officers have to finally kill it? Often enough that the image is easily conjured in our minds. Were those elephants happy? What was the final indignity that broke the proverbial camel's back?

I ask myself these kind of questions often enough that they are easily brought forward, and today, typed out here. And I wonder if there's a parallel to be found between that poor beast at the Fair and my own situation.

I have gotten so used to the chain around my foot that I haven't even bothered to try to escape. Fear of being alone has kept me from even trying to break that chain. Instead, I have allowed myself to suffer the indignity of a relationship that doesn't even pretend to nurture the man God created in me. Sure, I'm allowed out in the sunshine and fresh air... physical needs. But what of the need to be happy? to roam free? even as a monogamous husband a man still needs freedom to be what God has created him to be... without chains, without denial. No! It's not about sex, or the lack thereof, it's about the value another person places in me.


So. I've been saving money to move out. Out of fear or an act of sabotage the would-be missus deliberately short-changing the household's needs, tucks a sum of money away somewhere in her room (yes, we sleep in separate rooms), and forgets where she's hid it.

Fast-forward three days: She needs an emergency dentist visit to the tune of $150, demolishing all the cash we had to get to next payday. I knew I was going to have to dip into mine just to get us there, but I didn't expect what would happen next.

Rewind a month back. She was to pay both of our insurances on X, but come Y she still hadn't paid it... she was too tired to deal with driving "all the way across town". Now comes Z, and with both of us in the car, me driving without my seat belt on, I get pulled over. Long story short, a ten dollar ticket for not wearing my seat belt, and a three-hundred fifty dollar mandatory court appearance for not having proof of insurance. And she STILL can't find the money she lost. And she needs this, and that, and we both need this. And now this morning my car won't start. The engine turns over, but it won't catch. Yeah, I know what the problem is, and I know what the problem REALLY is... that I can't possibly get the car fixed AND pay the court fines, AND put money aside to escape my 30 ft diameter circle. Things will continue on as they have... the only sunshine I'll get is when I'm trotted out, saddle on my back, to be ridden and kicked by screaming selfish brats, and their clueless parents.

Knowing this then, I have a decision to make. Do I allow myself to continue docilely accepting my lot in life? Or do I break free and run, even though the guns await me in the end?

Am I afraid? I most certainly am. But what other choice do I have? Because continuing to wear that saddle is no choice at all. I was meant for broad savannas and cool wide rivers. I was meant to spend my life with someone who gets me and accepts me as I am rather than with someone who only desires to saddle me and heap indignities upon me. I am ready to be loved. I am ready to belong to someone. But I am tired of being the object to which a child points and shouts, "I want to ride the elephant!"

I don't feel right about posting this. But I'm going to do it anyway. I don't view it as a pathetic bemoaning for attention or sympathy. I'm choosing to view this as bravery because how many other people out there feel the same way but are likewise afraid to break their chains and flee, guns be damned? To those who feel the same as I, don't wait as long as I have to run.

What good is a dog if its never allowed to run? Why is it we always feel the need to leash those things we desire to call our own? I have no desire to leash ANY woman who chooses to love me-- that's right, chooses. I desire only to love and be loved, and to trust implicitly... knowing and accepting that trust is often broken. But with freedom to love and be loved, comes the understanding that trust IS broken. You must be able to acknowledge and accept that truth to truly be free... KNOW your trust will on occasion be broken, and ACCEPT that you will forgive them. For no one is perfect. For if God can forgive them, can I do no less?

I'm in a right tight financial pickle at the moment. I know it will not last long. I know I will be on my own by next summer's end-- hopefully sooner. I know a good many things, but what I don't know is if someone will ever love me the way I desire to be loved. For that, I place my trust and faith in God, who alone is perfect, and will in His own time lead me to green pastures... beside still waters... who will bless me with more than my cup could ever contain, more than my table could ever support, more than my heart could ever fathom. I will not be that elephant. I will no longer allow myself to be so ridden again.

stumble to find

She Said, He Said...
























Found this on the net... I like.

What more can I add?

something rEally bad

Moving through the eastern sun
I saw you first upwind of tomorrow
Hands caressing the long tall grasses
Heart swung knells of bells you rung
For all tomorrow's sorrow
And here I am wanting, wishing too
For early morning and morning dew
Wanting and wishing only for you

I caught you in the noonward tides
Sun above, beginning to fall
Embraced you in these arms of summer
Raim'd in love and light besides
And dreams we swore, nor did forestall
Now here I am wanting, and wishing too
I'd caught you in the morning
   ~Made love upon the dewy dew
No more wishing, but wanting of you

The pipers in the trees
Orchestrating accompaniments
To the rhythm of our cries
Perfect echo to our sighs
Safe in long tall grasses
Away from all their prying eyes
Something really bad could happen
Were it not for our many allies

Sun falls swiftly in the sky
Shadows threshing our lover's bed
Our dewy bower in sepias warm
Where long tall grasses yet lie
Where love, life and promise wed
Yet here we still are wanting, wishing too
We could see again the morning
   ~Make love upon the early dew
Ever wanting and wishing for you
   ~You for me
Ever wanting and wishing for you and
You for me
Ever wanting and wishing forever for you
And you for me
Wishing again to be

Pipers in the trees
Orchestrating accompaniments
To the rhythm of our sries
Perfect echo to our cries
Safe in the tall grasses
Away from all of their prying eyes
Something untoward might very well happen
Were it not for all our many allies
Here in the tall tall grass
Ever wanting or wishing for you, and
You for me
Ever wanting and wishing for you, and
You for me
Ever wanting and wishing forever for you
And you for me
Wishing again that we might be
Again


ELAshley
110309.111456.6
I'd like to think there was a melody in my head while I wrote, but rarely is this the case. Not a particularly inspiring title. Perhaps I'll change it. But not today.

I listened to David Gray's Babylon (Live) throughout this effort which was written for a specific someone, but I'm not willing right now to say for whom...

If you want it
Come and get it...
Let go your heart
Let go your head
And feel it now

Revisions:
110309.104203.6
110409.031117.6

e's wEekly brain dump

A lot of talk and a lot of chaotic internal reflection. It's becoming more and more inevitable that I will, in just 5 or 6 months be on my own for the first time in almost twenty years. No I am not getting a divorce-- I've never married. But I am losing a room mate.

I've asked her to marry me numerous times, but she has always dodged the answer. She has said often enough she doesn't want to marry anyone... period. And I'm tired of being single, tired of being celibate, tired of not being able to share who I am with someone who love me enough to share their life with me. I'm tired of being lonely. I'm depressed. And I'm so desperately lonely.

* * *

Due to the end of Daylight Savings Time there was one more hour of Halloween last night.

* * *

I've decided that if I fall in love with anyone, I want someone who's chatty. Someone like Mary Angel; someone who, despite her chattiness, is also willing and ready to listen without interruption; who knows when to let me talk and when to ask questions or encourage or embrace me unconditionally.


And that's enough for this week. I don't think I can bear to continue.