Tuesday, August 28, 2007
he say she say
and you say that everything looks better by moonlight. not because our flaws are forgiven in the dark, but because life is best discovered with the heart, and not our eyes, that invariably speak only the truth, and fail to see the not, the never, and the howif.
and i reply that it is true that the eyes may unsee, but the heart is too often swayed by the semiotics of absence, and the twinned chimeras of hope and belief are far more dangerous than the truth.
and you tell me that i of all people should know that the truth is a crude and dangerous bludgeon, wielded by those who know nothing and understand everything. and that life speaks through closed lips: the squeeze of a hand; the sun on eyelids; the comfort of silence; the curve of a collarbone...
and i reply that yes, life is more than truth. but the truth lies within and informs all our choices, and life is unavoidably and invariably informed by choices, conscious or not. and the recriprocity of action and consequence may be intricate and convoluted and far beyond our understanding, but it behooves us to react to the ephemerally-present and not on the infinite and self-contradicting plain of probabilities...
and you smile. and you ask me to close my eyes.
...
do you understand? you ask me.
and-- yes, i think i do, now.
+ fictions&fires
4:34 AM
----
plangere, latin: to strike, or to lament.
in the depth of winter i finally learned that there was in me an invincible summer.
--albert camus
--
to be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best night and day to make you like everybody else means to fight the hardest battle any human being can fight and never stop fighting.
-- ee cummings
--
--