Dear N,
I want you to know that I get it now. I actually have for some time and it hurts my heart to know what that means for you. It frustrates me to no end that I don't get to hold your hand through this and knowing that it's my own damn fault. You know how openly I love and you are certainly no exception but they've fixed up the dam and it's running as smoothly as it ever did. We can't have anybody else drowning now, can we?
I get it and realize that you will not shatter beneath the strain of this and that my place is not beside you in this. That is what I admire about you. You've never needed that and probably never will. If you wanted it though, well, that would be a different story altogether but I'm not really any good at writing those anymore.
-P
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Memory is a strange thing
Yesterday I found myself reflecting on high school. I found this odd since I rarely think about high school. Socially it was a throw-away experience for me and most of what I learned had to be unlearned in order for me to become the person I am today, whom, for the most part, I am happy with. It's strange because with that revelation I realize that the freeze frames of the people I knew then don't exist that way anymore.
The world keeps turning even when you're not paying attention. Those people have spouses, children, houses. They're older than people I meet now that are older than my memories of them. I'm older than "adults" I looked up to then. There are people I am friends with in memory. We are not friends now.
Then again there's the fallibility of memory. Perhaps I was never friends with those people. Perhaps others considered me friend as I forget them. I can't confirm what I can't remember whether I was there or not. So I try to make a list of the people I knew, the people I enjoyed being with and I stop. I am not the person I knew.
In high school I recall reading about how your body replaces itself every seven years and thinking "in seven years my body will be dead and gone and replaced with a new Phil" (further research puts that number closer to 15). That thought terrified me. At the time, I liked Phil. He felt he was comfortable in his own skin, he liked his friends, and nursed ideas of becoming a writer for a living. But eventually, he did die and the man that replaced him doesn't like him. He doesn't like a lot the friends that Phil had and has the opinion that Phil was, in fact, quite uncomfortable in his own skin.
On the upside, new Phil did learn.
It's good that memory is finite. I don't think we'd evolve as smoothly if we didn't forget. Holding on to old memories, old ways of thinking, things that are gone and dead chains you to those things. The world keeps turning. It's probably a good idea to turn with it.
The world keeps turning even when you're not paying attention. Those people have spouses, children, houses. They're older than people I meet now that are older than my memories of them. I'm older than "adults" I looked up to then. There are people I am friends with in memory. We are not friends now.
Then again there's the fallibility of memory. Perhaps I was never friends with those people. Perhaps others considered me friend as I forget them. I can't confirm what I can't remember whether I was there or not. So I try to make a list of the people I knew, the people I enjoyed being with and I stop. I am not the person I knew.
In high school I recall reading about how your body replaces itself every seven years and thinking "in seven years my body will be dead and gone and replaced with a new Phil" (further research puts that number closer to 15). That thought terrified me. At the time, I liked Phil. He felt he was comfortable in his own skin, he liked his friends, and nursed ideas of becoming a writer for a living. But eventually, he did die and the man that replaced him doesn't like him. He doesn't like a lot the friends that Phil had and has the opinion that Phil was, in fact, quite uncomfortable in his own skin.
On the upside, new Phil did learn.
It's good that memory is finite. I don't think we'd evolve as smoothly if we didn't forget. Holding on to old memories, old ways of thinking, things that are gone and dead chains you to those things. The world keeps turning. It's probably a good idea to turn with it.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
The Result of a Creative Aneuryism
The Woman as the One-directionality of Time
You spoke to me with the moon in your mouth
A reflected coal of thought
Melting against the friction of all that wasn't said
You peeled off layers and layers of expectation
And laying them as ripened petals
On the river of your heart
Sent the fragrance of your love
Into the cracks in my smile
I hum the harmonies
While you
You sing the songs of too much tenderness
Taking breath and light with you as you go
The world is your stage
your oyster
your pearl
And you in your softness, beauty, and strength
Pry grace from its greedy teeth
I close my eyes and listen to the chimes of your voice
Rise and fall as the dawn and dusk
And when the day is through
I will sit at the edge of your canyon of song
And wait for the beats of love to return
Like the flapping wings of roosting birds.
~Philip Rey Miguel
© 25 April 2009
You spoke to me with the moon in your mouth
A reflected coal of thought
Melting against the friction of all that wasn't said
You peeled off layers and layers of expectation
And laying them as ripened petals
On the river of your heart
Sent the fragrance of your love
Into the cracks in my smile
I hum the harmonies
While you
You sing the songs of too much tenderness
Taking breath and light with you as you go
The world is your stage
your oyster
your pearl
And you in your softness, beauty, and strength
Pry grace from its greedy teeth
I close my eyes and listen to the chimes of your voice
Rise and fall as the dawn and dusk
And when the day is through
I will sit at the edge of your canyon of song
And wait for the beats of love to return
Like the flapping wings of roosting birds.
~Philip Rey Miguel
© 25 April 2009
Sunday, March 29, 2009
The "good" person
So, I've been trying on a new hat lately. I don't feel as though I can fully call it honesty but I have the suspicion that it is in a shape that is not completely unlike it. I like my new hat. It fits, it's comfortable, and it keeps my head warm. It makes me tell people that I love them and that I don't like seeing them in pain. I have a new scarf and gloves that do the same as well.
I am told this is not okay. I am told this attitude gives the wrong impression. I am told I have a messiah complex. I am told that I want something in return. I am told I am being prideful. I am told to change.
I don't believe these things I am told. I feel as though I am just doing my part to the best of my ability. I don't expect any great changes in the way the world rotates because of my actions. I just want those around me to feel the warmth of my love for them. I feel as though I am being selfish for keeping it to myself. I think that its growing in me is too large of a gift for me to contain even. And for that, I am distrusted.
So again I am told I am wrong. I don't want to be wrong, because if I am wrong then the world is supposed to be a much colder place than I want it to be. But until I can find a different place to live I guess I'm stuck here and have to function according to the rules. As of yet, though, I just can't say I'm convinced that that's the way things are supposed to be.
I am told this is not okay. I am told this attitude gives the wrong impression. I am told I have a messiah complex. I am told that I want something in return. I am told I am being prideful. I am told to change.
I don't believe these things I am told. I feel as though I am just doing my part to the best of my ability. I don't expect any great changes in the way the world rotates because of my actions. I just want those around me to feel the warmth of my love for them. I feel as though I am being selfish for keeping it to myself. I think that its growing in me is too large of a gift for me to contain even. And for that, I am distrusted.
So again I am told I am wrong. I don't want to be wrong, because if I am wrong then the world is supposed to be a much colder place than I want it to be. But until I can find a different place to live I guess I'm stuck here and have to function according to the rules. As of yet, though, I just can't say I'm convinced that that's the way things are supposed to be.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
. . . the more I like my dog.
This past Thursday I decided to go to a birthday celebration of dancing. Sure, great. It was fun. I enjoyed myself. However, at the end of the evening I was left with a rather upsetting thought. I don't get people. I feel I have a healthy sense of the types of things that people want (according to Carl and Isabel I'm an intuitive) but there were so many people there that just made no sense to me.
I was with a few friends, all women, who were constantly being approached by other gentlemen in the club wishing to dance with them (by approached, I mean hip-checked and by gentlemen I mean lumbering oxen). Now to give them the benefit of doubt, maybe some of them were simply reaching out to another human being in hopes of finding some proper connection either mental or physical (perhaps spiritual). But the level of ignorance portrayed by these fine, young, hippopotami was shocking.
Now I get it: You're at a club, you see somebody you find attractive so you go over and to try to dance with them. This is my understanding of the way that particular aspect works but all the subsequent events befuddle me. After a polite rejection, perhaps a look away or a turned shoulder I can see how somebody could assume that she is being coy, playful even. So a second, less polite, attempt is made followed by a less polite rejection: a fully turned back or consorting with other friends as a show of disinterest. At this point I can almost see the head bones thickening on this water buffalo. Okay, maybe the ethanol has creeped into the cerebrum and those hints are missed so a third approach is made with the intention of making quite clear that he wants to dance (is this really the objective anymore?) with the odd side effect of being somewhat rude. At this point the response is to go into herd-of-sheep mode where everybody associated with the target huddles into a tight wad of security. Usually, this is enough of a clue to discourage the approching yak.
"Usually" is the word that I am forced to use that gives me great consternation. I am astounded and saddened at the level of disconnect that I observe after this point. He's been rejected. He should move on right? Apparently not. At this point he stops making any attempt to pretend that he is still trying to dance and just tries to shuffle into the ovine pack. I don't even know what he's looking at at this point because everybody is trying to avoid eye contact with him. What's supposed to happen now? Is everybody supposed to turn around now and invite him into the fold for being such a good sport? This goes on for another couple minutes until he leaves with a none-too-polite smack on the target's arm for her rejection of him.
I know this isn't an isolated incident. I know this sort of thing happens in a host of different ways, in a plethora of realms even. It bothers me that for all the 'nice' people there are in the world there are these people and they are probably necessary for the world to work. I get it, I work with it, but I don't like it.
I was with a few friends, all women, who were constantly being approached by other gentlemen in the club wishing to dance with them (by approached, I mean hip-checked and by gentlemen I mean lumbering oxen). Now to give them the benefit of doubt, maybe some of them were simply reaching out to another human being in hopes of finding some proper connection either mental or physical (perhaps spiritual). But the level of ignorance portrayed by these fine, young, hippopotami was shocking.
Now I get it: You're at a club, you see somebody you find attractive so you go over and to try to dance with them. This is my understanding of the way that particular aspect works but all the subsequent events befuddle me. After a polite rejection, perhaps a look away or a turned shoulder I can see how somebody could assume that she is being coy, playful even. So a second, less polite, attempt is made followed by a less polite rejection: a fully turned back or consorting with other friends as a show of disinterest. At this point I can almost see the head bones thickening on this water buffalo. Okay, maybe the ethanol has creeped into the cerebrum and those hints are missed so a third approach is made with the intention of making quite clear that he wants to dance (is this really the objective anymore?) with the odd side effect of being somewhat rude. At this point the response is to go into herd-of-sheep mode where everybody associated with the target huddles into a tight wad of security. Usually, this is enough of a clue to discourage the approching yak.
"Usually" is the word that I am forced to use that gives me great consternation. I am astounded and saddened at the level of disconnect that I observe after this point. He's been rejected. He should move on right? Apparently not. At this point he stops making any attempt to pretend that he is still trying to dance and just tries to shuffle into the ovine pack. I don't even know what he's looking at at this point because everybody is trying to avoid eye contact with him. What's supposed to happen now? Is everybody supposed to turn around now and invite him into the fold for being such a good sport? This goes on for another couple minutes until he leaves with a none-too-polite smack on the target's arm for her rejection of him.
I know this isn't an isolated incident. I know this sort of thing happens in a host of different ways, in a plethora of realms even. It bothers me that for all the 'nice' people there are in the world there are these people and they are probably necessary for the world to work. I get it, I work with it, but I don't like it.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Devising Stratagems
Turn your head facing but just enough that you're not looking them head on (that would be too unnerving). It's all a matter of creating safety, calm. Lean ever so slightly towards them, open your mouth, and say not the first thing that comes to mind (that would be too honest), not the second thing (maybe still too honest but probably just embarrassing for you), but the third thing (what is the third thing and how long has it been since you've opened your mouth?). . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Oh! and make sure you're paying attention ("you remembered" moments are pure gold. they show that you're serious and no, you can't just tell them. they won't believe you). Look at them in the eyes (very careful here. people are protective of their eyes. maybe a count of three, no, three is too long. two-and-three-quarters? no, still too long. probably two-point-six-repeating and how long is point-six-repeating do you still have eye contact? it's been two-point-six-eight already). Now say something impressive about yourself (but not in a "hey look how awesome i am" way. be subtle. casually reference the time you hitchhiked to penticton. okay maybe not that time. penticton isn't exotic enough, not that you're going for exotic here. you're not particularly exotic and you don't want them making comparisons. have you complimented them yet?). Compliment them. Laugh at their joke (no, it doesn't matter if it's funny. okay maybe it matters if THEY'RE funny but we already know that. i mean, you wouldn't be here if you didn't think they were funny, right? well, it was a little funny so i guess you're okay for now. remember, two-point-six-repeating. yes, i know there's spinach lodged in your bicuspid but it's probably far enough back that they won't see it. leave it alone. are you comfortable? you need to be comfortable or they will think you don't like them. touch their hand? sure, they extended it to you for a reason but think about what that reason might be. two-point-six-four that time. a little short but that's probably okay. you can probably take a sip of water or something. you don't look comfortable. are you still talking about penticton?).
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