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August 9, 1999
a year ago

Myth and Reality

Cera and I talked a lot today. Partically about old mail that I'd found, mostly, though, about the balances of myth and real life.

One thing that I've been doing these last few years is grounding myself in my own life. The real life that I have right before me, with each breath, each touch of the fingertips on the keys. The papers and digits before me and the books and breath of the cooling fan from my machine beside me. A mirrored mouse, a silk rose, a kleenex box, the biking shorts in my drawers, and the thousand and one reasons why living right here and right now is *good*.

You might ask why? Why was I so desperate for reality? What was I running from so hard and why has it haunted me for so damned long? Years and years and when I was going through my old email, it was in email in 1995 and 1994 where I was complaining about Mark, which just really sucks to think about. That many years, why didn't I just let go? Leave be?

I was asking John this on Sunday when I had realized just how long it had been. Neither of us had any kind of answer and neither of us know why, just what and how. I'm glad he had the patience he had.

Cera answered it today, for me, quite unconsciously, I think, on her part. And it was more in the context of what she and I wanted and didn't want. We have both been touched by myth, but have so much more interest in being grounded, finally, in reality.



They were my life's blood. I think. And Mark gave that to me in real life. The ability to play the part, let the story live me. Let romance and how things 'should be' take over my life rather than being content with what was there was. What really should be. Ideals and dreams made true, myths made real. To feel that power is a taste something immortal and burns so deep that I don't really know how to get away from that other than to argue it away with a thousand about thousand touches of Now, Here, and Why.

It's easier to play a part than be a whole human being.

It's much easier and addicting to be regarded, for a while as something purer than I really was, I think. Something or someone that shone for someone else with an abiding imagination that the image was stored, kept, and refered to.

In the classic Japanese Romance, what they consider the true romances, the lovers never get together. There is always something between them, something that makes impossible the consumation of their love or even their meeting. In classical Japanese lore, the two people in 'You've Got Mail' would have just always had their email romance and circumstances would make it so that they jus never met and gave up but always kept the lover in their thoughts.

Myth and smoke, mirrors and dreams. They seem so much better than reality until you grasp it and think about what it meant at the level of everyday.

What Cera and I have is a friendship, an everyday kind of friendship where everything goes and anything and everything we encounter in our lives is up for discussion and thought and even sharing. Small things, big things, and tangential things. I don't have to play a role with her, and any single role would limit either of us tremendously. So it's kinda cool that we can just be ourselves, totally. I've played the knight, the child, the athlete, the geek, the hero, and the victim and while they might all fit at one point, they aren't all that there is to me.

I guess John's known that all along, and has gone through, with me, the changes. More readily since I met up with Mark, I think; but maybe that's just my own preconception. Mark did open up a few things for me, dreams and possibilities and the ability to say my own mind. But the day-by-day reality really couldn't work, didn't work, wouldn't work because too much of me is really caught up in my life with John. Which is such an odd juxtiposition of thoughts...


I now know which world I live in.

John got a really nasty headcold from somewhere, and I seem to have it too, but less so, so I made him soup for dinner, then we fed Fezzik, soaked his paw, which seems to be getting better, and then went to sleep. That was the day.

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