Blog-Like Thing

With each keystroke the moment passes and it is gone. Deleting what I’ve written won’t change that; the world has moved on. Children have been born; lives have been lost; lovers have kissed their first awkward kiss. All this has happened millions of times in the minute it has taken me to type these clumsy words. Life goes on, and it pauses for no one. Memories of pleasure fade. Pain recedes. The mind wanders and wonders.

But these are just the words I write. I share what I want and hide the rest, as whim and fancy suits me, my internet personality becoming an entity of its own — both a reflection of me and a self-created persona, perhaps quite different from the reality.

As I lay here, thinking, typing, going over the events of the last year or so, there are moments that stand out. Moments that I would love to relive again and again and again. Moments that I can’t believe ever happened to me. And for once in my life, I’m glad I’ve kept mementos and photos to remind me. Because that was the past, and it is the future I have to deal with now — a future that presents even more challenges than I was facing before, even though, perhaps, I didn’t know it.

–All original content in this post is by(c)BluHarmony with all rights reserved.

(Annie and Ella are the greatest.)

I’m tired of saying goodbye. Maybe this time I really am. (And as a completely irrelevant aside, I’m grateful that all the friends I’ve made throughout my life are still with me today and that I still find them as beautiful as ever.)

–All original content in this post is by(c)BluHarmony with all rights reserved.

So unbearably bright,
We turn down the light.
The world burns tonight,
And sleep covers fright.

The flame in your heart,
A promise, a start,
Together apart,
Our fortune’s black art.

Without much to say,
We’re here but away,
Just wishing to stay,
So loved one more day.

–All original content in this post is by(c)BluHarmony with all rights reserved.

 Wolfsheim - Once In A Lifetime: Play in Popup

Life is unfair. So we try to make up for that fact by inventing all sorts of fairy tales — life after death, forgiveness for the repentant, heaven for those who lived a good life (whatever that means; I suppose I’ll rant about politics and religion soon enough).

Poppycock. Who would want to live after death? Death is easy (provided it’s painless), at least for the person doing the dying. For friends and family, it’s much harder to bear. The final ending of any worthwhile relationship is probably the most painful emotional experience we must live through as humans. Death is as final as it gets, and it touches us all.

Sometimes death comes as pure relief, for instance, when a person’s life has reached such a state that the quality of life has completely disintegrated. And sometimes death falls like a cruel surprise on a life overflowing with potential and joy. There is no rhyme or reason; there is no human-like or just god looking over us. Life isn’t fair. But we are all equal in death.

–All original content in this post is by(c)BluHarmony with all rights reserved.

I am guilty of so many things. As I examine my life, I find more and more reasons for shame, embarrassment, and guilt. Letting go of the past is easier said than done; it comes back to haunt you when you least expect it — it pops up in conversations with old acquaintances, government records, relationships, and your own callous memory. The past can stop you from going where you want to go, when you want to go there. Things that you’ve long forgotten are filed away somewhere, and can be located at a completely unexpected moment. Maybe you went too far when you told someone something; maybe you said something to the wrong person. Maybe you’ve done something that you should have never done. Maybe you filled out the wrong form, the wrong way. Anyway, much as you might want bits and pieces of the past to vanish; they’re still there, coloring your life, your personality, and affecting who you are and who you want to be. And even if you’re not keeping track, our society is. (And, if you think about it, given the care many workers give their jobs, this is a scary thing indeed.)

You too, my friend, are “guilty.” You’re guilty of everything you’ve done in your past that didn’t comport with your own values or with our society’s expectations. Of course, you should forgive yourself and move on — that is the only wise thing to do. I know that I forgive you, no matter who you are or what you’ve done. But will society? That remains an open question. Do you care? Probably. People who say they don’t care about what society thinks are being dishonest with themselves. Even in rejecting society’s values, they are seeking reaction or retribution. And most of the time, these very same people follow society’s rules despite themselves. The rebellion is an act. We are still the proverbial lemmings following the path to that very same cliff. So even if your clothes are tattered and torn, and your hair is bright blue, you’re still affected by our society — you’re simply expressing it in a different way.

But most importantly, if you’re reading this, you’re guilty of finding what you believe to be me. You have not found me yet; I am not here.

–All original content in this post is by(c)BluHarmony with all rights reserved.