Fatalities

The second time I died was a collision—

Head on, no escape, as on a bridge—

An undesirable fate foreseeable

Which I approached, full steam ahead,

Despite my 20/20 vision.

She was the chocolate to my hound’s yap.

She was the low-budget horror flick.

The flame to my moth.

The pornographic image.

If you saw Independence Day, she was the giant, city-sized explosion, and I was the chubby guy in the car saying, “Oh crap.”

Fatalities are personal; they happen inside—

For the lucky: every few years,

For the stupid: much more frequently—

As a small piece of the soul shrivels

Or scars or warps or, amputated, altogether subsides.

Maybe she’d pick me over that other guy;

I was hoping in spite of myself, hoping,

Longing, deep beneath my innards,

But when I leaned in, and she turned her face out—

That was the second time I died.

Or maybe it was the fifth?

Or the twelfth—

I can’t be sure,

But I do remember the first.

It was much less poetic.

Noise and Noise

"Today the world goes back
To the way it was--
No real reason.
Just because.

Back to struggle,
Back to life--
Two eternal synonyms."

"Lovers and cellmates."

"PAIN PAIN PAIN pleasure."

"PAIN pleasure PAIN PAIN."

"PAIN PAIN pleasure PAIN."

"pleasure PAIN PAIN PAIN."

"But that's rather negative, no?"
"You're damn right it is!"
"It's honest too!"
"Gains are modest!"
"I can't forgive it!"
"Let's go get drunk!"
"I'm not moving!"
"Let's go to bed!"
"I'm not moving!"
"Fuck-a-you!"
"Fuck you too!"

"It's all for nothing!"

"It's all for nothing!"

"It's all for nothing!"

"It's all for nothing;
Life is what you make it--
Perception's in the mind,
And minds can be controlled.

You can look at something
And see good
Or see evil;
There is a choice involved."

"Unless you're blind--
Then you can't look at anything."
"You can't look,
But maybe you still see!"

"People talk a lot."

"They do!"
"They scream!"
"They cry!"
"They laugh, whisper, and implore!"
"They hum and they buzz."
"No real reason--
Just because."

Why You Should Read Books part 1

Edgar Allen Poe praised the form of the short story for its ability to produce what he called a singleness of effect.  Short enough to be read in one sitting, a a whole short story (beginning, middle, and end) can be kept in a reader's mind all at once and can therefore be understood, felt, and contemplated more accurately in terms of the whole.

And that all sounds very nice.  But it doesn't work for everyone, say for instance... me.  Don't get me wrong; I can get plenty out of a good short story, but when push comes to shove I'll choose a longer work any day of the week and twice on Sunday.

The simplest reason for this is that a book, be it a novel or anything else, gives you MORE.  More characters, more plot, more description, etc.  There is an entire new world in which you can immerse yourself.  And it lasts you longer.  And even if one part doesn't strike you, another part might.  There are so many devices, subjects, styles, and pieces of information found in just one book-- most people are bound to be able to relate to something, and most people are also bound to learn something they didn't know.  These longer works are complex, like life, and this gives them value.

Short stories on the other hand, are as simple (and also as potentially powerful in their messages) as the firing of a gun.  But like the firing of a gun, they are also hit or miss.    

To Love is to Be Extreme

When you love, you are committing an extreme act.  You are saying, "There is something in my life that is more important to me than everything else in my life."  And people who say this are willing to go do some extraordinary and drastic things (both good and bad) to preserve this love.  People will change any other aspect of their life if it means improving that one all-important aspect.  They will even sacrifice entire areas of their life if necessary.  And it does become necessary; all great things require both risk and sacrifice.  So to not love-- this can lead to its own sort of success.  You might make it through life without having to make any real sacrifice, without having any major challenges.  You can definitely focus better on any given task without being distracted by all the unstable variables that love brings into the equation.  But nothing that comes of that focus-- nothing will ever quite match the elation and despair that come from loving.

A Cautionary Tale Against Caution

The longer he lived and the more he talked, the more difficult it became to say anything.  He got caught up too easily in the trappings and niceties of society.  Too many topics became off-limits; he did not speak of them lest he offend someone.  He began speaking like an army cadet reporting to his senior officer.  No nonsense, only the obvious questions and the obvious answers.  This went on for years, him talking and talking and holding back more than he ever meant to. 

            Then the coughing started.  It began like a mild flu.  Then it escalated to the point that he could only speak in a quiet gravelly voice without going into a fit of coughing.  And the more he talked like this the worse he got.  Something was lodged deep in his throat where no one could see: maybe a year’s worth of feelings held back, or ideas not spoken, or wants not met.  Eventually he could no longer talk at all, and the coughing subsided for just one week.  Then it came back and it remained, even when he was silent.  And sure enough a discernible bulge formed and swelled in his throat.  It started the size of a golf ball.  In a month it was the size of a grapefruit.  In two more months, it was as big as a soccer ball and he was admitted to the hospital against his will.  And the last thing he ever heard was a doctor asking him why he hadn’t come in sooner.  His response, if he still had his powers of speech, might have been that he didn’t want to burden anyone.  Or maybe he would have said he was afraid.  Or that he hated and mistrusted doctors.  Or that he secretly wanted to die.  Or that no one loved him enough to make him come in.  Instead his eyes just got really wide, his mouth opened wider, and a big vein in his neck pulsated, snake-like.  Then with a sound like a thousand dying frogs or maybe a handful of dreams betrayed, his neck exploded right there in the hospital room.  

Why Relationships Fall Apart

There are certain qualities we look for in sexual partners, and other things that we look for in romantic partners, and still other things that we look for in friendships.  And the person you love should be a romantic partner, a sexual partner, and a good friend all rolled into one.  But if our expectations for these three roles are drastically different, it seems unfair to ask one person to try and act like three.  This is part of why there is so much infidelity, unhappiness, divorce, and lonliness.  We have unrealistic expectations.  We expect societal ideals that can't plausibly coexist in the same person. 

For instance, a man might look for exciting, adventurous sexual partners-- women who challenge and stimulate him, women who won't be tied down.  Then when he marries one, he starts expecting her to suddenly become a conservative housewife.  Not gonna happen.  You can try and force it for a while, and on the surface it might seem to work, but it will be soul-killing, and eventually the relationship will end. 

Or say a woman seeks out strong, confident, assertive men, men who show no fear, who are who they are with no apologies.  They attract her.  They make her feel wanted.  They are men of action.  But then the woman starts wanting this same man to be a sensitive guy for her, to talk about feelings, to gossip about so-and-so.  That's just not who he is though; if he cares enough he'll give it a go, but she's trying to make him be two people at once for her.  He'll either fail outright, or succeed for a while and then snap.

To avoid conflicting expectations, I think it best to have certain valued qualities that are at the root of all your relationships.  What do you care about?  No, do not count the qualities that would be nice.  Do not include the qualties you think you want.  Scrap all that.  Scraps the minute details. Scraps wants.  What do you NEED?  What values are essential to you?  What universally qualifies a person as worthwhile in your book?  Use those qualifiers and let the other expectations go.  If you rely only on these qualifiers (which should be relatively simple and few in number), then you'll know when you like a person that he or she is a candidate as a friend and a romantic partner and a sexual partner-- because you use the same standard of measurement for each.

Example of a universal qualifier:  Respect.  Every type of relationship is enhanced and deepened by the presence of respect.  If you don't respect someone, you really shouldn't date them.  It's not gonna end pretty.

No one is perfect.  It is impossible for even your soulmate, your life's true love, to be "your everything."  No single person can be everything for you because that would involve possessing opposing qualities that cannot coexist in one person.  Example:  Let's say you like to gossip, but you also have secrets you'd like kept.  It is unfair to expect your spouse, significant other, or any one person to be both a gossip buddy and a secret keeper. 

It is important to have realistic expectations of people, to know what they're good at and what they're not.  It is also important to have a variety of people in your life to fulfill your different needs.  The people you get closest to will be able to satisfy several of your needs, many more than those more distant.  But no one can satisfy them all.