Posted by marko on 1/23/2007, 7:47 am it reminds you of ireland. it reminds me i’m late. i have scene 177 there are so many questions no one can answer for us. but scene 178 i would say guess there’s a math equation that can i need you to be more specific. i need more than an outline. i didn’t do it on purpose. it meant as much to me as it did
65.167.39.211
scene 176
to run. there’s no time to enjoy the landscape. anyway,
it just looks like back home to me. wait till the sun goes
down. them maybe you’ll understand what i’m saying.
when the moon comes up you’ll see the same old sad
clown, & you might wonder why move at all. i found
that out long ago. but try explaining that to anyone. all
you’ll get is a never-ending argument for your time. you
start to feel you’re always playing devil‘s advocate. even
when the scenarios are long past hypothetical. it’s right
now baby. so i hope you can see why i have to leave. i
can’t say for how long. hopefully it will be enough time
for you to come to your own conclusion. it might not be
anywhere close to mine. there’s no way to tell. that’s the
chance we take.
we keep asking nevertheless. over & over, as if somehow
it will convince us this time around. in between we fill
our heads with noise & trivia & make memories we’d rather
forget. but we believe there might be something in there too.
& we’re so desperate we cling to anything that even suggests.
we begin to imagine hope in what we once blew off as
insignificant. or in things we never noticed before. we start
to size up anyone we believe holds any promise. & who
knows—it could blow up into a relationship. it could become
mechanical but fairly safe . we could become calculating
mercenaries, phony & soulless, & become so ugly we no
longer know that person. we no longer care to know that
person. that person can’t tell us anything.
pinpoint the exact moment when we’ll realize we’re
there—where we need to be. though reactions will
vary of course. some will be disoriented. others will
will initially feel disappointed. some will feel ecstatic
& not understand why. & there will be room for
interpretation inside all our answers. i’m speaking
theoretically. but it’s also a show of faith. knowing this
doesn’t make it any easier to realx & let it come to me.
it can’t be forced. it’s not possible to squeeze more
figures into that which has already achieved perfection.
i need to hang fire until the real thing dazzles me beyond
logic, beyond imagination. beyond my wildest dreams,
if you will. it sounds over-the-top i realize. you’re
probably thinking—this isn’t like him at all. that’s
the beauty of it. we couldn’t pick a better time.
scene 179
this is useless to me. your narrative is all over the place. i
don’t know if we’re in the same story any more. allegory,
simile, parable, fable—i get them confused. why can’t you
give it to me straight? i can understand that it’s a delicate
situation. but somewhere the rubber has to hit the road.
it can’t unravel forever without getting it’s knees dirty.
there aren’t enough words to cover that much ground
anyhow. if you can’t talk about it, why not try writing it
down. it helps me focus. it keeps me close to the truth.
then you can leave it. you won’t have to be here when
i read it. you won’t have to listen to my response. is that
what’s holding you back? are you afraid how i’ll respond?
i don’t understand. when did you become so afraid of me?
scene 180
to you. i want to tell you i can’t remember what happened.
but i know that won’t fly. i’d be wasting my breath. i
understand that burning need for retribution. but wouldn’t
this be better classified as vengeful. i could open my mouth
& a flock of doves could come streaming out, writing
apologies all over the night. but you’re not one to put much
stock in symbolic gestures. & you might shoot them before
they have a chance to soar. i couldn’t stand to see them fall
like broken buttons. i admit i can be unpredictable. but
you knew that. i may on occasion explode over seemingly
unimportant things. but you have a mean streak that
stretches long past my anger. this is why you thrive in
this culture. this is why you usually get what you want.
i gave you what you asked for. i didn’t take it back. it
was an accident. i stumble three hundred-sixty degrees
into one hole after another. i can see why you’re upset.
i’ve tried to explain. i suppose all that’s left for me to do
is to take the long way home from now on.
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