Knitting Ferocious Spiders

Before everyone else, because I am still up... because I'm incorrigible and have no off switch. Words are often my only companions. Polymorphic ones. Changing and being changed, while I fret out the keys playing on the board. So much quieter than a piano. Though I still wish I had access to music the way I had. Once upon a time, I was a flautist, and could play arias that longed and soared: "What beautiful tone," one judge said, "but you need to focus on theory." My mechanics (as always) needed a little work. I've never liked to practice. I could fake the expression of music much better than my ability allowed me to. I exploited emotional resonance to peddle my notes. I spoke to the heart, not the head. Though I haven't picked up the instrument in years, I think I am still using wind to make an impression. The intangible remains my greatest tool. Things are working out. I am located in the centre of a viable nexus now because I can breathe out , and sha...

like a bandit all week. My tongue has been adventuring. It can been completely shameless at times, I have to admit. Sometimes it can take me anywhere, and then refuse to apologize. Funny that it does the majority of the work vocalizing the words that can get under other people's skin, and then in a different tack, get itself into the mouths of others' as well. It's a tricky little muscle to exercise. I should I say "excise"?

is not the lack of options, but rather the confluesense of them: everything running together into a nexus, and there I am, standing alone, trying my best to see the Best Case Senario.... It's not impossible, is it? It's not completley unatainable? Or, really. In the end, it doesn't matter. Best case or not, the people I care about are capable, remarkable human beings. They will (despite obstacles, and in spite of prodigous hinderances) thrive. I love them all for it, surving the shit. But it doesn't stop me from worring. For good or ill, I have taken on friendships that are just as involved and complicated as romantic realationships, and in many ways they're taking just as much out of me.

The problem with the statement " No one is alone ," is that it is not completely true. In some ways we are not. In some, we are interconnected, web-like paths of jittery atoms, striking chain-reactions across probability... nothing I do exists in a vacuum . In others, we are solitary suspentions of consciousness -- limited by the fact that everything we do, we do as the result of a choice; and each choice, no matter what the motivation, or awareness of what the process is, still remains completely independent: everything I do is a lonely action . One of my favorite quotes is from London Fields by Martin Amis: One of those people who should never drink anything at all, Nicola drank a very great deal. But it depended. A couple of mornings a month, stiff with pride, deafened with aspirin (and reckless with Bloody Marys), Nicola would adumbrate serious reform: for example, only two collassal cocktails before dinner, a broad maximum of half a bottle of wine with her meal, and the...

I am not deaf. At least, not yet. The ear seems to be recovering. I can hear the inside of my head fine; my pulse, and the distortion from my voice thrumming through grey matter and bone. Everything outside is still wrong from one direction: speakers warble, and music changes key -- I can't listen to the stereo without it sounding discord. I figure that it's just clogged with the remnants of infection proper, so I plan on returning to the doctor to see if he can flush this nonsense out. Also, am I not completely unemployed -- in order to get that distinction I first have to wait it out until the change-over, when All-of-the-Above takes possession of the business, and hopefully offers me a little extra money just to walk away (a lay-off, they call it). Otherwise, the onus is on me to quit, which I would prefer not to do until I have another establishment to walk away to... which means I may have to work for the fellow for a couple of weeks until I can flee with safety, and watc...