I Say, Son, Don't Run With Scissors

47 Monroe is once again (see entry for 01/01/05) entering its typical state of normalcy. This time though, it feels more like a rebirth than a restoration, as if during this past three weeks part of 47 Monroe was torn down, burnt & destroyed, & a newer, brighter 47 Monroe is rising from its own ashes. It’s humorous & bit humbling how bringing a foreign element into your world, into your every day, can bring forth traits & desires which had lain dormant long enough to nearly be forgotten. Kat’s introduction & involvement in our lives (mostly Brian’s) exposed many a dark shadow with an illuminating light, enough so that perspective has been changed, refocused; emotions & objectives we were humouring ourselves with were realized as the truths &/or fallacies that they are. Love can at times be a funny thing to play around with, with all its undefined rules & its participant’s proclivity for cruelness & cheating. The oddest thing about love is that it doesn’t stay within its own borders; oft & with haste it begins to touch & shape other aspects of your life, areas which you originally didn’t feel were connected or contingent upon this burgeoning emotion soon unveil themselves as accomplices to the fact, as reminders, instigators. Like right now, Aliza just dropped me off at home & is on her way to work. Somewhere between her house & mine, the scent of her perfume wore off just slightly on my left hand & now every time I lift my coffee mug to my lips I am reminded of her, her presence in my life, how happy I am with that, how happy I am with her, & these simple linear thoughts soon mushroom into a more complex type of free association thought, guessing where she might be on the northwest expressway, Valentine’s Day, Bach, my knuckle & how it has been almost six weeks since I jammed the damn thing & still it’s swollen, the ridiculousness of our “hookin’-up”, chocolate milk, bicycles. Soon enough thinking of those things within my life from which I receive joy branches off into thinking about those things which disconcert me. I’m now stressing over how great my need to find a job is & going weak in the knees at the same time, all because of the blasted fingers on my left hand.
When that reminder is bittersweet is when you’re in trouble, & that seems to be where Brian is. Love is a multifaceted, as well as multi-faced, challenge. When things are going well it is easy to just lie back & appreciate how good they are, but it is also folly. The painful things in life don’t just go away of their own accord & the good things in life won’t just stick around if there isn’t any effort put forth to keep hold of them. Comfort can be such a dangerous, double-edged sword.
Shot, pass me the pipe, I'm done.

Brain & I safely returned from Seattle. Favorite parts about the trip: the ferry to Vashon Island; the inspirational quotes Kat’s father has tacked up all over his house (“Initiate: be courageous, take action, create results I prefer”, “use everything in my life as fuel for growth”); the redneck sports bar outside Olympia where Brian & I got beer & fries & also change for a hundred dollar bill after paying with a fifty; Brain not falling asleep behind the wheel & killing us both; the quant dilapidated state of Vashon Town, like an oceanside tourist town without the ocean & therefore without the tourism; Seattle’s train yards.