"sometimes when I get lonely I think of you"

For today, my (ir)rational fear that the world will one day run out of great music is loitering in a dark corner somewhere far far from here, like the seedy character that it is. 

If I was making a mix tape for you, this would be song number one. It is seriously stunning. Check. It. Out. Now.

Now.

river flows in you

I usually feel completely lost; utterly frozen in some ordinary life, scattered with just enough crap to make me sometimes sad.  In flickering moments, dotted throughout the threaded line of my existence, I get a strange feeling, like this place in time was made just for me. I get a glimpse of the plan, like the Angels accidentally dropped their notes, and between blinks I get to see it, and know that maybe I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.

I'm learning all the time. And then, sometimes I regress, I hate where I am, and my situation.  Like when my sore foot is being a bitch, or a migraine comes to visit, and stays awhile. But, I'm reading a lot about peoples versions of life, and pain, and peace - and I understand we all have our shit. I want to become a better, happier person, in spite of my shit, maybe even because of it. Wouldn't that be ironic?

And to you, The Boy Who Stopped, I realised that while meeting you was refreshing and scary, sort of like the rush of sensations you get when you slide into a really cold pool, I wasn't ready for anything more.  I thought I might've been, but I wasn't.  So it's sort of ok that you stopped talking. Because I don't know really who I am, and I don't like myself very much - and that's in the pile labelled 'shit I need to figure out' and I'll be forever locked out of the next stage of life until that job is complete.

So I'm a work in progress, and I suspect you are too. I do hope our paths will cross again, when the time is right.

to the other boy

I spoke to John yesterday - not on purpose of course.  He called work, and I was the only sucker around to answer the phone.

"Hello StrangeBird, my name is John - I used to work there, I'm not sure if you remember me..."
(yes, the conversation really started like this)
(what, like I send intense love letters to all my previous co-workers, and then forget who they are?!)
(fuckwit)
Blah-blah and pleasantries followed, and then when he met his quota of appropriate interest shown, he got down to business and revealed what he wanted.

Of all the days in a month, of all the minutes, seconds, hours contained within a single work day, he had to call at precisely that moment.  As I was talking to him, I was aware it was awkward, but it wasn't until a few minutes after I put down the phone, that unease rippled through my gut.

Of course, he doesn't have the power he once had over me.  And it's only now, with the benefit of distance and time that I can see the cracks in his presentation, and the massive voids of clarity that once impeded my view of the world with him in it.  But, he's still the first boy who ever really broke my heart. And that warrants a slight pause I suppose.

Hearing his voice, and the suggestion that I might have removed him from my memory, sort of made me wish that I had; that I could have.  It made me want to change - transform like caterpillar to butterfly, and fly away - forgetting what things were like, before I had my wings.

That night, I pondered the experience before pushing it to outskirts of my mind, where it belongs. And it made me think of the 'other' boy I'd met recently. The wonderful conversationalist, and part-time yogi who found me on the dating website those weeks ago. I still haven't heard from him.

I know I should forget him.  But, there's a small part of me who holds onto a speck of hope that he will contact again, when he is ready.  And, if we were talking, I might tell him about what happened yesterday. I might tell him I write these posts to him.

I want to hear from you RiverBoy, so incredibly much.  I don't know if you'll ever be in the mood to listen to me again, but maybe I'll keep the conversation going anyway. Just until you tell me to shut up.