|"you are like satan" i said. "no, " tim said, and then he nodded. "Yes, I am." '
||[05 Sep 2002|10:15pm]
"i beheld leaves within the unfathomed blaze
into one volume bound by love, the same
that the universe holds scattered through its maze.
substance and accidents, and their modes, became
as if fused together, all in such wise
that what i speak of is one simple flame."--dante...paradiso
i suppose i am more of a creature of habit than i assumed. when i moved here, i felt, not immediately at "home" per se, but an instant sense of unity and a degree of comfortability i would expect to feel walking the streets of my neighborhood. yet there is still that grey area where i wonder if the person i was in another geographic location, can completely transfer to a new one. where i wonder if it would have been better, safer even, to have remained in philadelphia and completed my studies at temple university. it was comfortable, like a sofa you bruised yourself. and what it seems like, more and more to me, is that a lot of people just want to be comfortable. they want to settle into places where it doesnt matter if only 12 people know of their existence, because those 12 people matter a great deal. i used to think this was foolish and intentionally ignorant; to deny oneself the chance to risk who they were to become what they are; to go places and, consequently, leave places. to perhaps say as many goodbyes as they do hellos. and to have the "courage" to make mistakes, fully aware of the possibility of being wrong and having to do what seems like starting all over again.
you see, to me, square 1 is a dreaded concept. the idea of retreating back to the place i was, even yesterday, frightens me a great deal. to go backwards and forget what i learned, or at least conclude it was invalid, and to have to search through not just five or six, but hundreds and thousands of ideas to find out which one best conforms to my "needs." of course, nothing can be totally discarded. ever. (unless of course you fall victim to any of the brain eroding illnesses where you truly, by a flaw in design, cannot remember) still though, everything leaves it mark. if not on your mind, then on your skin. or on your mothers skin. or on the paint on the walls of your bedroom. or in your choice of a spouse, a dog, the way you cook your porkchop.
but there are so many ideas and theories that you cant avoid hearing, and sometimes cant avoid being influenced by, that is, unless you have already developed your own theories to protect yourself from being easily waivered, in which case, you might actually end up being closeminded. i cant decide whats better: to be closeminded and content (in your intentional ignorance) or to be so open minded that you temporarily adopt all theories your encounter and feel it only fair to devote a great amount of time to examining and evaluating each. in this case, you just become a plethora of ideas; a floating mass of other peoples words that could have even been words said in a state of disillusion and then retracted later. but you see, you haven't reached the later yet in this scenario, and maybe you never will, because by adopting so many ideas and forcing each one to create a home inside your brain, you then no longer even know what is dictating each action. perhaps we need to develop filtered minds, where we recognize what might prove to be valuable and discard what might prove to be either detrimental or space and time consuming.
you see, it's all one terribly confusing cycle, or circle, i don't know which. i am being optimistic when i refer to it as a cycle, because there it would seem would be more room for change or a chance to break away. dont ask me whats better, because i sure as hell don't know. i have unfortunately taken socrates theory of knowing only that you know nothing, into excess. i feel compelled to question every bit of information or even every feeling from inside *me* (or what i think is me.) sometimes i think it would be much easier to fall gracefully back into the way things used to be and live by the sea. but i know i would feel like something is missing.
what i have concluded, actually, is that i need to take risks. i don't mean risks in the sense of intentionally entering life threatening situations or involving myself with married men etc. i mean the really great risks. the ones where i confront my worst fears and accept them. the ones where i have to say goodbye to some to say hello to others. maybe even hello to me.