Pic of the day: The road into the light. A picture of the beauty outside my window. :)
Slept till almost 11 today, woke up with a somewhat stiff neck. I vaguely remember snippets of two strange dreams. In the first I was travelling to New Zealand, and there was this guy who looked like a vagabond but who knew a lot about the place. He just went on and on talking about things there (which I do not remember now). After we arrived, we came to a river which had cut a few meter down in the terrain. This guy was walking straight towards the river as if it was not there. I did not have time to cry out a warning even, before he stepped right over the riverbank and fell into the current. I ran along the river, but it ran faster and faster and he was sucked into the pipes that led the water into the city. I could hear his cries but there was nothing I could do. He was sucked into the system and disappeared.
The second dream was later in the night and very different. Again I remember just a snippet that was particularly strange. I was trying to conjure a horse. This dream was filled with the strangest creatures and magic. It was in the way of the land that you could not really conjure things, you had to transform something into something else. I was setting up a really detailed spell to conjure up a horse for my dreamfriend, who would need it to escape. My friends expected me to transform something into a horse, while I knew that I would be able to conjure it. But in the last moment, I caved in and set the spell to transform a small piece of debris on the floor instead of calling the horse out of nowhere. And as the magic took hold, the small piece of metal turned into an animal ... but not a horse. It was like an overly large and long-legged fox, with a strange pattern across its back, and looked alien and misshapen. It ran past us and disappeared.
That's what happens when you trust other people's expectations over the knowledge in your own heart.
After being cooped up with my computer for hours, I took a reasonably long walk, my trusty digital servants with me: The digicam to give you the above picture (among others), and the minidisc to play "I'm in love with the McDonalds girl" so I could reflect on the impact of passion on human lives.
In case you have not noticed, Tim is back. The journaller who wasn't built to get up at this time. After scaring his loyal fans by disappearing for weeks, he is back with a new design and new gems ... no, entire necklaces of British humor. Too bad that in his long absence I've read the Harry Potter books to get my regular fix of British everyday life, and now I find it hard to keep the two apart. The other day, I even thought of Katie as "Hermione". I don't think she is going to like that. (If she's still out there ... the last entry I have by her is January 3. I hope she's OK!)
Now, back to the matter at hand. Young master Tim's report reminded me of how early passion brands it mark on the human soul. Now the chap seem to be more mature for his age than I was (and let us hope so), but even so ... even thinking of kissing when you're 15 is ... uh ... well, extremely common I guess.
And so I walked in the pale, reddening light of the fading day, taking the high road and looking out over the hundreds of homes, and considering how some people cannot live without passion, while others of us cannot live with it. It is hardly any doubt, if we leave it to natural selection, who of these will be plentiful and fill the earth. And yet, each of us must trust the truth in our own heart.
I like humans, I really do. And particularly women. And yes, my body has its own comments to add on those. But the idea that I should depend on one for my happiness is ... ridiculous. I think that is the best word. "Babies come from the stork." "Christmas presents come from Santa Claus." "Happiness come from another human." At some time in one's life, I would expect, such notions are left behind.
That is not to say that other people are of no value. I would not prefer to be a hermit living in the wilderness - though with Internet access that wouldn't be so bad...
There are some people who are better company than nothing for each of us. And I guess I have grown more honest about this as time has passed. My current Best Friend knows pretty much what I think about her (she has read it in my cast section). (Which, by the way, I guess I ought to expand a little.) I can see how someone like her would be habit-forming. I love her. But not passionately. I don't count the days till I get to see her again (probably sometime in March). I don't replay the farewell hug over and over in my mind. (She was like totally pickled with the flu.) I don't secretly dream of holding her in my loving arms, brushing a few strands of pale hair away from her shining blue eyes, and, well nothing of the sort. And I can most certainly live without her. I've done so most of my life, do so now, and God willing I'll do so for a few more decades while she marries someone and raises a kid or three...
The whole "I can't live without you" thing raises my hackles. It reeks of emotional manipulation. Unless spoken by a small kid to their parents (and small kids never do) it's simply not true. Or if it is, the person is seriously deranged and should be avoided at all costs or better yet, locked up in a padded cell.
When I hear someone sing "I can't live without you, bleat bleat bleat" my immediate reaction is 'darned liar!' -I don't encourage hanging or shooting oneself (though I guess that would prove the fact that they were insane in the first place). Instead I recommend taking the slow road: Stop eating. I bet after skipping a few meals, you'll discover that there are other things in life than moping over some absent chick/hunk. Give it a few hours, indeed, and any sane human would choose pasta over passion. At least that's how I see it. Your mileage may vary. As may your weight.
Visit the Diary Farm for the older diaries I've put out to pasture.