Nostalgia and love and forgiveness and loneliness

Its been rainy and gray out, so naturally I've gotten a little nostalgic- a little lonely. Last night I was listening to old music from years ago, rereading blogs looking for something of value. I was hit by these memories not necessarily of being with the people I've loved, but of thinking about them -constantly. Of letting my world be guided, or adjusted to someone else's pull.

Its funny how they call to me. I have nothing to share, nothing new, but I want to hear about their day, want to hear their voice, want them around. And of course, I want love and affection and partnership, even when I don't think they are the right people, I still recognize that they were once capable of making me feel like it was possible -so having their friendship is the next best thing and I desire it. 

And I do want something new of course, want to invest but also be invested in. Still I think its funny how right now I am not dwelling on the last time, or the done me wrong, or the fact that they are already taken, or the worries... I just want their attention, their time of day. Though I have nothing to say. 

I wonder what life would be like without Facebook, without the reminder that they exist, out there having fun, pushing through life, loving someone else. It's like that thing where you know being Amish would be better for you in the long run, but you choose Facebook -a semi knowledgeable separation over nothing. 

I don't think it helps that I have no crushes. A friend recently had to get over one, someone with chemistry, which makes it worse, because chemistry feels like the universe's way of saying this matters, your pull is real. But it wasn't, every time they hung out, she was disappointed, until eventually/inevitably giving up, but of course that doesn't keep you from longing (as I know years later)...

I will probably have one of those dreams tonight. Funny thing is, I'd welcome it, any little connection. 

This week has sucked

Las Ramblas

There are a few places on earth, I've always thought were magical,
Where the spirit of the place seemed to overwhelm the physical space so much that the laws of science and cynicism weren't needed, and didn't have to apply.

The adventure through the streets was so real, that you could feel the demons and the angels resting on your shoulders, clawing and soothing - as they pointed out the choices, undermined the patterns, animated the very stones, and nurtured your path forward- so that though not fated, felt perfectly predestined, as if the universe had prepared (all this time) to greet you.

The muses meet you there,
And until you feel them latch on and compel you to be- you don't recognize how perfectly meaningless reality had once seemed. 

And as you inhale the vapors rising from the street, your corneas flex just right in the midday sun, revealing every color in existence, and the perfectly sculpted comes to life, smiling just right -she waves you forward, and another plays the rhythm of your heartsong echoing off the old stone walls, and suddenly you are crying, suddenly beaming because you can't help but choose hope, can't recognize anything but the beauty of humanity and of creation. 
-that's what it means to wish a street would never end.

Between the Charlottesville thing, the terrorist attack in Barcelona, and a whole bunch of people's personal issues... it’s been a tough week. I've gotten to check in with lots of good people, that’s been great. But today I was sort of overwhelmed by the idea that this place I've always considered magical was the site of a tragedy. At noon while I was eating lunch with my brother they had it on the news, blood and broken bodies all over the street. It just felt like the perfect example of what so many things have felt like lately... that despite all the potential for good in the world, we have chosen the opposite. The good things are tarnished, we are going backward, the magic is gone. 

It’s hard to understand, you just can’t wrap your head around it, and it is easy to point the finger at one person (Trump for instance), but as a society we’ve chosen this. People talk about the weather or the stars aligning in the wrong way, it’s comforting to think that maybe this is all out of our hands, this is a context we can’t push back against, it is the way things are… but I don’t believe that. This is what happens when good people don’t plan ahead. Yesterday I had a migraine. I woke up too late, had the fan on high, wasn’t taking care of myself as best I could –but at a certain point in the evening as the storm/tornado built, I just couldn’t handle anything. I went home and hid under the sheet and hoped the meds would kick in. This is what we are all doing now…

I’m sort of scared to jump in, it feels like seeing the tsunami approaching and heading for it rather than away.

I haven’t been able to write or edit the last few days… just can’t make progress on the section where the world falls apart. Its too cheesy, too dramatic... it doesn't feel at all like what is actually happening.