Been intense around here lately. Not just that my roommate's been wound too tight. Like, clocktower tight. Or that my mood swings have left me to wonder at the state of my brain and my potential for things like schizophrenia or a tumor...a wacky tumor. Or the constant parade of strange, wonderful...strange people that end up in my living room, eating my food and breathing air that, while not technically mine, still likes me better. Or the desperate poverty that's kept me from these interwebs for over a week. Or that it's the end of the ju-months.
Or the crushing loneliness, it's not that either.
And, to be fair, know that from my perspective, none of the events above counts as bad. They're just puissant.
No, I think it's just the juggling of it all, the terrible antagonism of those things together. I couldn't be a hermit, but I envy them something terrible. And to a period marked by the arrival and departure of a finite but unknowable number of women, all of them extraordinary (seriously, how many beautiful women do I know? I could start a softball league), let me take a moment to blame your corrosive yin energies for interfering with my life. Come on, don't you know that it's men whose powerful, generative yang makes the world go round?
1 comment:
you used the word puissant. beautifully. jesus, i'm such a language geek that one perfect word can make me misty.
it's post-event depression that's got us all by the short and curlies. i miss the intellectual, crude, culinary, hysterical banter flying around that living room. i even miss the almost overwhelming and uncharacteristic urge to tidy up.
Post a Comment