Friday, August 11, 2006

I go along to be with you

All week long, people have tried to convince me that my current predicament of covering for the head honcho is "great exposure". Hey, guess what, people? When you're working for The Man, ain't no such thing as great exposure, yo! In general, I'm much happier when I go unnoticed.

But it will all be okay. I really do believe that. I have no reason to believe that, really, but I do. I have every reason to believe otherwise, actually. But here I am, helplessly hoping anyway. So there.

After returning home late last night, I engaged in the mundane- do the dishes, take out the trash, that sort of thing. It is strange how sometimes these mundane activities are the only things that really give me the sense that I am alive, that I am another person inhabiting this world, that I am not fading into the fog. But they do.

All I really need is a sense of purpose. It sounds lofty to state it that way, but it is not really all that aspirational. I have no aim to save the world. I have no aim to save anyone else. I do not even aim to save myself. It is so much simpler than all of that. Articulating it never works, but let's just say I'll know it when I see it.

And I will know it when I see it. It is weird to be certain of that. How can you be certain you will know it when you see it, when you haven't seen it so far? Is it because you just haven't seen it yet, or because you didn't know it when you saw it after all? How can you be so sure that you haven't missed it altogether?

It gives me a headache, but not really. W's last email questioned my commitment to Sparkle Motion. It is hard to hold that against him, but it is equally difficult to make my resolve clear. How to put into words why I am willing to pull the rug out from underneath myself, to make life difficult when it could be easy, to sequester myself in my apartment all weekend? To what end? Why? Why would I want to do this?

I have no answers to these questions. The answer will be waiting there; at the end, the beginning will become clear. Maybe. Or maybe this will all turn out to be one, huge mistake. But nothing could convince me that I do not need to do this. To let doubt put an end to this saga would be letting myself off the hook, would be letting life off the hook. It does not work that way for dreamers.

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