In Portland

In Portland
7/11/07

The swine arrives, another evening ensues. My time here in this scene is slowly closing, bringing about strange sensations. The move is immense and I doubt its repercussions will be made immediately evident. Nevertheless I find solace in these uncertain times, knowing I have a purpose and it shall be fulfilled.

Soon enough work and love will make a man out of you. Through and through. These trials and tests are true necessities to our growth; to comprehending that which is real, that which is truth. People move and make changes, some provoked, others unnecessary and uncertain. We know not why we do these things, though the flagrant action is clear. So where to go from here. We find ourselves time and again in these states, hoping our forethought and good intentions carry us through. Where to? Does a resolution exist.

In my mind, in my heart, the issue is absent, yet the presence remains in a lingering sweat, bitter and relentless. Unyielding is its source, and unsound its motives. I await that day and maybe it will arrive at dawn. It's arrival might be elusive, remaining unnoticed till the hour is ripe. We go amongst our friends, leading life with continual casualness, losing these hurtful thoughts in the bliss of faithful company and fruitful gatherings. The benevolence of a kind word, a true smile, a caring reassurance. These things uncounted, amiss, forgotten and limitless. Nonagression, the path, the way. A non-judgmental conscious leaves one tired and filled with empty anger.

Yet this is passion, this is zest, life, breath, all that propels us in life, in love, in lust. We creep ever so slowly thinking time is endless and our passions fleeting. Hoping this is the one, the part, the place, the time, the girl, the past, the end of the beginning. We are clueless as to the convictions we hold under our breath, bounding, tittering with the notion. "That mocking bird is gonna sail away, we're gonna let it, we won't regret it."

And what of this land, this piece of earth open to the endless, the unknown. Where my road will lead is certainly uncertain ... though the direction is general and the driver ... the driver, he is broad in vision, yet meticulous in his perceptions. You see, this road he drives is filled with exits, road blocks, speed bumps and dangerous curves. But that is why he drives, that is the pursuit of all like he, hoping for the life of content-ness and yield-less understanding.

His father is loving, supportive, faithful, trusting. Their time is still yet to c0me. It's as if a standoff betwix the two, though either continually remained neutral. Neutral, scared, mad, and hurt, it continued and seems sad. Yet the transgression approached, and fearless they confronted. Axe and blade, tongue unrestrained, appetite starving. Though not ruthless, the intention forgiven, less than amiable.

A gift, what does one make of it. Money give to one, a favor, a gift, smile, favor, sacrifice, displeasure, to the benefit of another. Is one to give for the sake of the self-congratulation? Found treasures of unknown origin is their benefactor to be revealed. No ... What is this desire to help others without their knowing, without their thanks. These keen thoughts are not revealing.

The scene, the utter brutal ugliness of such a beautiful and benign experience. Has he crossed a border, a line of wretched treachery? It seems the devil incarnate has emerged in him and continues, no matter the nature, demeanor, congenial or quiet. But what should we expect of one of such ineptitude. Sly, sly they lurk. Praying those they want for no solace, love, reason or lust. Certainly pure power, talk and agenda drive their pursuit.

I don't need a conversation, an apology, forgiving departure or recognition of fault. The issue stands as it ended and is. As it remains. I expect nothing of her and this will remain. It's such a pity, that one would hold such prejudices, such grudges, crying over broken bones, things unable to be mended. A heartbreak can never be justified, no matter the amount of rightful reason. Some things are necessary, urgent to the health of the soul, to the betterment of what exists, and could fruitfully in the future.

But this bull shit writing gives no answer to the situation of the time.
And fuck it, because no one even cares.