8:10 p.m. - October 05, 2003
On a night I dread to be alone
Amidst the worries and shame I carry like marrow, there are notions I shelve and examine during those sharp moments when I struggle to sleep or need an incentive to ward off dreams, something to tell myself, You can do this, to tame for short long moments the inquietudes crowding my thoughts. Maybe they're a lifeline, a crutch, a carrot on a stick, or perhaps metaphysical constructs circumventing a fatalistic worldview in which things are as bad as they seem those dark nights that close around me and it is all I can do from muttering into the air, I give up. Like religion, the easy answer is never easy to accept, is it?
They are archetypal, bordering on tried-and-true stereotypes rather than careful syllogisms, but they comfort me:
[Skydiving], preeminent. Yielding the need to control, the fear of heights, the fear of letting go literally. To step up to the door, heart ferocious, and fall away, I think of Satan's fall in Milton's Paradise Lost and wonder if someone can fall so fast and far that skin and character and problems are left behind. To say I challenged and subdued all that to which I cling, it is a warm thought, as most fantasies are.
Ah, this reveals too much.
It is coming home to an empty house and not feeling dispirited but content, to choose this life rather than be a cog in plans for which I was never consulted. How likely of me to cling to passivity; regardless of whether I was instrumental in forming this life that is mine, I maintain rather than disrupt and thus it all comes down to me, a sobering thought when you think about it.
Dipping into a blue period again. Ah, don't say smile, Jason, smile because I'm adept at giving what others want and expect, master at deficit spending and zero point refinancing. Lose - Lose, tune in tomorrow.
