Theophany Journal

An open account of one man's meandering journey.

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Location: United States

Monday, October 31, 2005

Blogging Query

What is your practice or preference? When someone comments to one of your posts, how (if at all) do you reply to that comment? By leaving a comment in your own post? Emailing the person? Telepathy? No reply?

As the world turns, blogging is new, and I suspect we are defining the etiquette of blogging as we go. Any thought?

Sunday, October 23, 2005

Look Ma, No Wires!

Installed the wireless router yesterday.

Someone alert the media.

Wednesday, October 19, 2005

Disenchantment

Once I understand, I get disinterested.

My mind races beneath the wonderful burden of new, intense information. I twist my thoughts around new ideas, run breathless through the virgin concepts and visions of new horizons. Paradise found. Dreams realized, hopes born anew, belief becomes faith and I know that this is the place, the existence that I have sought.

Then.

Novelty becomes familiar, fresh deeds routine, and the discipline (oh, the horror of that word) mundane. I long to dance among the cliffs, and cast my dreams once more upon the clouds. If not for the tenuous sanity that my program of spiritual growth and recovery affords me, I'd be off chasing sprites and fantasies deep in the realm of Hades, losing my sanity and my soul, again.

Just for today, I will be vigilant and grow more serene, eventhough I scream to release passionate and perilous specters.

Thursday, October 13, 2005

Refreshed?

I'm not sure why, but after a period of not, I'm writing on my story again.

Chapter 15

By the time I awoke, the sun had warmed the bedroom and day was well underway. Last nights marathon love making with Kelly had left me spent, and I indulged myself in much needed sleep. Kelly was already up, and I stretched fully using the entire bed to flex my legs and extend my arms. I herd a rustle overhead.

"That must be Russell" I thought.

Russell was the squirrel that I had tried repeatedly to run from my attic. His name was an indicator of his modus operandi. For weeks now he had shown up, sometimes in the morning, sometimes later or throughout the day, scurried onto the roof and either worked on chewing his way through a new portion of the house, or entered the attic to romp and 'rustle' about. Kelly had named him Russell. I wasn't so forgiving and would prefer to call him a few other select names.

"Your buddy is back in the attic!," I shouted to Kelly.

Climbing out of bed, I grab my jeans and a tee shirt. I walked barefooted into the living room. Rubbing my eyes, and scratching my head, I looked for my shoes. I wasn't climbing those pull-down ladder steps and crawling in the attic with bare feet.

"Where are my boots," I asked, partly to myself and half heartedly to Kelly.

The silence finished the job of waking me. Kelly wasn't there. No coffee. No shower running. I walked back to the bedroom, scanning for any of her things. Nothing. She was gone. Walking back into the kitchen, I saw a note on the table. Picking it up, I knew. It could have begun with "Dear John."

Evan,

You were sleeping so beautifully when I left that I didn't want to wake you. Honestly, I didn't want to face you. I'm sorry for being chicken, but try as I might I've not been able to tell you to your face.

We've tried this for a while, and much of what we have is amazingly wonderful. You are a caring and considerate man. You are funny, smart and a fantastic lover. You know me, my body, my needs. God, it is all I can do not to run in there and make love to you, again, but I know that I'd not be able to do this, and it isn't fair to you anymore.

Despite your wonderful heart, you can't give me the one thing I need; your total and unwavering love. I've been waiting for you to let go of the past, your parents' death, the pain of being alone, and your lapse in success as a writer… none of that matters to me. I've told you. I've been patient. I've tried. I know that we will never have what we each need, as long as we are together. The distraction is too powerful. Our passion is too pleasant, too comforting. I feel that even in that passion we have grown more and more apart. You need your space, your solitude. I know you abhor being alone, but that is your journey. I can't help loving the city, and all that it is. I need to settle in to my life there and hopefully find someone who is ready to fully give...

Shit. Forget it, I'm rambling on. You already know what this is. I just don't want to crowd you with my things.

Goodbye, Evan. I love you.

Kelly

Just like that, she was gone. I looked at the paper in my hand. I was trembling. My head began to spin, my gut twisted into a knot. Somehow, I carefully folded the note and slipped it into my back pocket.

"FUCK YOU!," I screamed. My voice filled the house, ripping the life from my chest anemptyingng me of all but one feeling. The world fell silent. I heard a rustle in the attic. I cried.

Monday, October 10, 2005

Wandering Amid Myself

I'm wanting a spark, a zing of life. The vibrant piece, light, levity, a-musement, the spirit that lifts my soul seems to be far from my touch. There should be something there, within my soul, my being, where now echoing chasms haunt me with the sound of only my own words, falling hollow upon hallowed ground.

Why do I, a man who has all he needs and much that he wants, find myself longing so? It has been this way for days, perhaps a lifetime.

Thursday, October 06, 2005


Flights of Fancy

I met a wonderful young one today. Not that he is really young, two years old, but two for his kind is mature enough. His gaze captured me, released my spirit and held me again, and again. He lives with one of the people I met this week. One of the great aspects of my work are the many people, pets, and stories that I encounter.

Allow me to introduce one to you. Blogsphere, meet Hannibal.