A cracked mirror, distortion of a shattered being.. the first construction had a bad bend, and this funhouse has made monster upon monster. We look in the mirror, further down this path of insanity.. we've already passed the point of no return. In fact, we never really were anywhere shy of the edge of the cliff, never had a taste of the real syrup. There's no way we could know the Truth -- we're beyond imagination. We live on the rosin dust of a violin bow..

Somehow, though our goals align, you never gave me the support I needed. A casual friend taken to the extreme, you offer light praise, while I starve on the street. You see my tears, and look sad, but walk on by. I don't fit into your schedule -- you have no budget for sympathy or a helping hand. Watch me being left behind as you continue your goose-step away..

It is like the wooden moulds used to construct sidewalks, the teachers who want, maybe need, to be surpassed by their student.

There were always two kinds of offers, the haggling between two people who want to make a deal, and the silent, take-it-or-leave-it, that often sits unused, invisible, unexplored. There are always paths to where you want to go, albeit with sacrifices that make the labours of hercules seem mild.

A vision -- dive, dive.. hands over head, no thought, eyes closed, hundreds of people diving through a waterfall, or a shower? It is only in falling that we appreciate how high we have stood.

The final duty of the body, hand over hand, things leak, systems on the large and small have given up, mail is piled up in the mailroom, undelivered, unretrieved. The syntax, shall we say it, is borked. In death, she showed a surprising tenderness, unlike in life. Determined look in eyes, she slowly moved to the body of her lover, his eyes open, immobile, watching the sky after the lungs stopped, before the light of life left his eyes. Pain, but the chance to end it right.. one painful pull later, her head rested on his hand, another, and she snuggled into his cooling frame. A gasp, and she felt the breath leave her, death rattle, but she felt safe, unraveling with him. The habits peel back, revealing the strategies. "What do I want? To end with him" the strategies peel back, leaving the wants.. "Warmth, love".. the bright-eyed child briefly awakens.. "Things are different.. What comes next?" and then the last things, the instinct and the feeling, given the whole of the brain. Their eternal struggle for the brain complete, they echo soundless pain as their moment of victory ends all too soon.. vision, the inner fire, the flickering flame goes out, leaving only the repetition of the smoke, the remaining patterns first a parody of humanity, then the simpler patterns of inert matter.

Some additional thoughts from the trip.. I visited Chippewa, and while things looked very much the same as when I was in elementary school, the back looked a bit more cutesy and small. The latter I understand -- I was a lot smaller then. The first? Maybe things are more cutesy nowadays, a need to counteract fears of rapid adulthood. Each generation's rosy views of their past leading to a convergence to uselessness.

Yes, this trip involved a lot of visiting of Brecksville -- I drove all over the place, taking pictures. The old house is for sale, for about $300k. It was odd, seeing the advertisement for it in the tube.. I still remember every corner of that place. I didn't really visit as much with my family as I should've but the time wasn't as free as I thought it'd be. More thoughts on the wedding? Not really.. I guess I've covered it all pretty well, although my thoughts linger in my mind. Wistful happiness, loneliness, large dose of nostalgia, longing, happiness.. and goodbye. I'm not good with that last one. So long.. Fare thee well.. The dancing, it's one way to try to keep my mind off how I felt.. I danced to say goodbye (goodbyte) .. to express what I was feeling, because I was afraid to talk.. or maybe it hadn't progressed even to that point. The ending of the dance.. the last two songs.. we all joined hands, and made a ring around the two of them, hands up and down, as we moved in and out, and then circling around them. It was the sweetest pain I can remember, overwhelming. I just don't know what I can say about it, but it's a moment I will remember forever, and even the memory of it fills my gut with emotion, the pre-prism kind of undifferentiated .. *stuff*, the kind that makes you lose grip of who you are, a little bit of heat to melt and reform the wax of ourselves, brings unfamiliar shapes to our lives, makes us see things in ourselves that never were there before.. an insight, or the eagle sees something truly new. In potentia, or novel intro.. the difference becomes null with sufficient perspective. Overwhelmed, even a day and a few hours later. Have fun, yes, have too much fun.. and farewell. So many things unsaid, so many things that will remain unsaid, and the duty of the prospective speaker, on the other side of the closed door, to hold them until they dissolve. Just as I hold another burden to someone else. Amber said something touching, or perhaps sappy, depending on what's in her mind -- "I've only ever really loved one person". How nice that would be. To be with the only person one's ever really loved, to be able to say that honestly, and have it be true. The doubt -- it's justification for one's current state in life. But I don't know her well enough -- not my place to pry into every mind. I can honestly say that I'm not in the state she described.. I really have loved twice.. different shapes to the emotion, state of being, of love. Oy. Speechless again.

Today, after waking up suitably late to make up for getting to bed so late last night, Jason and I went to IKEA, then drove around a bit, and then the tree, and then out for Indian food. It's really great to be hanging around him again, even if only for a few days. For a long time, he's been one of my closest friends, another of whom I expect will visit me again in a month or so. My body is still sore as hell from so much dancing yesterday -- more sore than all the running made it earlier this week. From a preserving my body point of view, I think dancing is more strenuous, the way I do it, than running is for me. Note, na klar, that I'm talking about fast dancing -- I enjoy slower dances too, but it would've been a bit odd for me to do much of that with who I was dancing with. I guess on the topic of fidelity, I am a bit more conservative on what I provide, and expect, than most people.. or at least most people I hang out with. Some of my friends tell me that they don't actually care if their s.o.'s have sex with other people, so long as their relationship is uniquely close emotionally. Others tell me that their relationship isn't unique in the emotional way, but is uniquely close in the commitment to being there for each other, or in planning life together. I don't know if it's the liberal folk I tend to associate with, or if this is just unusually candid but still representative talk covering the lifestyle spectrum.. and of course there are a number of people who have, or at least express, viewpoints closer to mine. The majority, I think.. To me, a uniquely close emotional bond, reciprocal sexual and, to a large amount, sensual exclusivity, and planning/spending life together are the essense of a relationship. A number of intuitive-type dos and don'ts also come with the package, and a few other minor points. There exists in my mind the possibility of 'play' relationships -- no commitments, mostly sensual/sexual, with little of the emotional (or intellectual, which to me does a lot of the feeding of the emotional) ties.. Some people suggest to me I should do more of that kind of thing while I wait to see if/when I have a chance for what I'm really going for. Hmm.

Idea - scene recognition. A device that maps out a room, via echo or similar, and when walked through enough rooms, would map a house or area.

I'm still leeching wireless off of my neighbors. It's decent, although their wireless doesn't penetrate so well to my apartment, so I keep losing and regaining the connection. Not fun. I'll need to order new DSL soon.

Ugh, I am *so* sore from dancing.. blistered and sore.. Watching doors close.. and wondering about the other side..