Posted by marko on 1/27/2007, 8:58 am i’m on a mountaintop. it’s not “the mountaintop” it’s a simple enough question. it only requires a short there are two elbows on the windowsill. there is it may have made no difference. it might have hurt scene 200 i stood as close to you as i thought i could get away
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scene 196
but i have no higher aspirations. i’m all alone here.
i can deal with this most of the time. & i crave the
silence at times. but there are moments when i need
to hold on to something rooted deep to keep myself
from doing a swan-dive into the mess below. i’m not
any more disillusioned than most of the world. but
i’ve lost that perspective. so maybe i am. i’m not a
total misanthropist. but there are pieces i could do
without. i’m not seeking enlightenment. i ran with
that number for over twenty years, & i feel no closer
than the day i started. maybe i’m not supposed to
feel it. maybe it’s best i don’t understand. maybe all
that knowledge would be dangerous, even deadly.
but i am on a mountaintop. i am alone. so no one
would be harmed. no would know but me.
scene 197
answer. yes or no. further explanations can come after.
there will be plenty of time to elaborate, to flesh out
the story, to defend yourself, to accuse me. there will
be time for a more eloquent presentation, for poetry,
for rhyme—rhythmically intricate or schizophrenic
nonsense. there is a thin blue line between us. it is
imperceptible to the naked eye. it cannot be measured
with the most sophisticated tools. our words seep through
very slowly. sometimes so slowly that we’re no longer
there to hear them. but i promise to wait this time. i
swear i will be patient. i won’t slip away quietly or storm
out the door. i will listen without comment. i will not
interrupt.
scene 198
condensation on the glass, & fingers wanting to
write something but afraid they’ll be read the wrong
way. eyes looking for something they can’t see, but
know it’s out there somewhere. probably somewhere
far away., but possibly just around the corner. there’s
no way of knowing without leaving. there is a black felt
pen scratching incessantly into a spiral notebook with a
red cover with cut-out photos taped to it for atmosphere
or inspiration. only a few feet away. trying to get a bead
on somewhere else too. there’s music playing softly in the
background that neither likes, but this is how we compromise.
there’s a strange feeling in the air, a combination of tension
& resignation, which can’t be put into words that anyone
would understand. it hangs like sad decorations that have
lost most of their color. left behind one wild, joyous night.
never torn down.
scene 199
twice as much eventually. yet i wish i could have
given more of myself to you. i shared enough that
you would know i was there, enough that i believed
you would understand i wanted to be there. but maybe
you didn’t. i took this for granted. i used to take people
for granted. but i’ve grown into my soul. it took a long
time. it took too long for us. i used to project my feelings
onto others. i believed what i saw. i no longer do this.
i realize i know much less about other people than i
once did. paradoxically, i believe i understand them
more. i’m sorry it’s so far away now. i would never be
able to find us again.
with. i fell into your chocolate teardrops. but i was
blessed with excellent peripheral vision, so i could
take in the rest of you at the same time. i could feel
a wild surge dancing between us. once as a teenager
on acid i was engulfed by this pure desire, i came without
touching myself. it wasn’t a desire for anyone but myself.
that probably doesn’t make sense to someone unless
they’ve had a similar experience. i bring this up because
this was as close to that pure desire that i’ve felt since.
the difference being it was a reciprocal charge. it didn’t
need acknowledged. we understood what was happening.
i never asked you about it. you never asked me. no answer
was necessary. yet i’ve never been more certain of anything
in my life.
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