my heart is working, healthy and alive. i can explain a sliver of my feeling universe. because you need it more than i do. because you must learn by word of mouth, observation, you, a master impersonator until you arrive, i know you will. stubborn and everything, fresh tears and honest, and it won't be in what we created and that's all right. i understand. but it'll be magic. feeling, tree branches, memories, phrases, the books our neighbors leave out on the sidewalk are all clues. laying in shavasana with a reeling mind unspooled and smack dab epiphany, is a reward. with you i learned to be humbled by life's surprises. just like that floating dock with the full moon, black lake, and your voice reflecting my best self back to me like light across the water. was that emotional narcissism or do the meaningful people in our experience illuminate pure understanding? either way it starts with the bastard self and hopefully goes eternal from there and back and around.
you told me to not shy away from my victories, but now you're gone.
two people are ingredients in something more, there is a reason why we come together and orbit, interact, fire asteroids into each other's blank planets. more, i had once written a letter about more, hadn't i? more, because you can't go hiking with another person without getting back into your car knowing more about this living. more, because when you wake up limbs tangled, breath indistinguishable, dreams still hanging in the air explaining themselves to one another, the day is now introduced by more than just sunlight. it's us, a shoebox full of hospital gifts and photos, shared sweatshirt, the meaning in eyes, my smile, and those are only physical, they all exist inside. you can't run from them, dress them up, play someone else, they will be there existing in cells changing.
you will never read this, but will echo into feeling. i promise.
so hear this; my heart is working, healthy and alive. it beats faster some of these days, inside a heavier chest at times, i cough, cough, a dry cough i've had since i was a kid, barefoot on indian earth, california teaches lessons like a violent saint. don't doubt me! don't do nothing or i will eat you! the ground will fall out from under your feet if you don't move! you must move!
and so we all do.
our last day was the event horizon. the rest a black hole. you learn nothing in a vacuum. i see myself again reflecting from every event and lesson, but mostly, from now. i see myself from now. we can do that too and it's more profound, showing ourselves the way to ourselves. fine, but two people, holding up the curtain together, they reveal something else and it's important. it's not everything but it's important, it's why we take all of our hang ups and baggage and mistakes and we put on our favorite torn jeans and try again with another stranger drinking whiskey and eating licorice. i was clever the night we met, honest the next, passionate the rest and i don't regret any of it, i've felt, failed, and given. all we can do is give.
and now i give my self, sacrifice it for expression, flagellate my ego and hopefully remain a channel for the blessed purity. so when i say, i, me, compliment my own smile, it's because i've learned that the best way to discover something new is through this reflecting, inner, outer, inward, out world.
so, thank you. i've been revealed, so have you, to whichever degree. we both have different definitions of time, mine hurts more per moment and it's the only one i can fairly give credence. i have little money, the breeze blows through my windows, and last night i was in that damn grocery store parking lot where we miscommunicated making it official. there was fog in the morning, i wrote another script, sunshine again, the leaf blowers hum like the impending circular saw in a james bond film, cue rolling belt, only noise, outside of the annoyance of machine or ego, is something grand, same with the inside, find this golden blurry fireball of potentiality, of now, of all these threads and folds.
you said something sweet to me once about a picture book, how i put it all together for you like that, thank you, but it's more than sight, or any sense, it's knowing, the hurt reminds us when we forget, but it's knowing.
i hurt, i love, i know.
so thank you.
maude says it's wonderful harold, now go and love some more. i keep referencing her on this blog. my heart is working, healthy and alive.
