Remembrance of Things Past
November 18, 2003
My visionary indian friend is desperately trying to fuck up his mind. He wrote me an email today explaining how he assaults people with tenderness, how he tries to drag them into his life, and how he invariably fails to connect with them in any meaningful way. He’s too much like me these days: hopelessly lonesome and always looking for something he cannot have.
And he asked me to tell him about my life with Barbara and her death. I only talked about it in detail with a few people, and it hurt. Right now I don’t even have the words to describe all that happened. The past is still a raw wound, and I feel enormous guilt and sorrow each time I think about it.
But I always felt a need to confront the past, even if I could not bring myself to do so for well over a year. Stonyrubbish.com was supposed to be my deeply-felt elegy, but I haven’t yet written a single word about her or me. I will revisit the past, but only when there is a bit less hurt.
I am not yet ready to fuck up my own mind quite yet.
Posted by Tudor at 05:10 PM in Various Positions | TrackBackEvery battle you run from creats one thousand more conflicts
Posted by: Brian on November 18, 2003 at 07:44 PMAs long as I’ve known you Tudor, you’ve never tried to use drugs or alcohol to kill your emotions.
Me? I’ve got the same strength. In my times of trouble, I always turned to music to elevate me above the pain.
Posted by: Brian on November 18, 2003 at 09:07 PMWe all have to do something to keep us sane: dreams, booze, drugs, anything to keep ourselves alive. But eventually we have to confront reality on our own terms.
Posted by: Tudor on November 18, 2003 at 09:17 PMConfrontation on my own terms would be fine. My reality dictates that when the drugs wear off, the alcohol is out of my blood and the song ends, the pain comes at me from any and all directions.
Being engulfed with pain makes thinking impossible sometimes. All you can do is try to maintain your composure until the storm ends, and you can resume your “normal” life.
I wouldn’t run from my problems forever— one day I might seriously regret not saying or doing something I really wanted to.
Posted by: Brian on November 18, 2003 at 10:19 PMJust remember the Aztec Camera lyric, “The past is steeped in shame/But tomorrow is fair game”
Posted by: Brian on November 18, 2003 at 11:43 PMAnd we always wait for tomorrow…
Maintain composure, accept the past: these are the things I tell myself all the time.
Posted by: Tudor on November 19, 2003 at 12:36 PM