Disappointment.

Have you ever had an idea of how things were going to be? Something so tangible and strong that you could feel it, that you could build on it, that you could work towards it and feel it taking shape?

Have you ever had that idea completely shattered in one hard shock?

The world changes, spins, redirects and what do you do? It was only an idea. Something that never was. A story within a story, a dream that will never be. What do you do when you thought knew how the world was, and then it turned out to be completely different.

Thwarted. Prevented. Incorrect.

Part of me howls in rage, part of me just wants to crawl into bed and sleep forever. Part of me wants to run run run until my lungs explode and every step pushes messy wet stumps of pain further and further until I hit oblivion.

I feel certain about so few things, that when I am and it turns out wrong it's a hard blow. And to do what?

Time is a fire that consumes everything, leaving only ash behind. There is nothing to return to, nothing to question, nothing to restore. There is no back, you can never return. Once changed, it remains so forever. I know this. I live this. And yet...

It Is Snowing and There is Cognac

There is nothing so quiet as streets covered with thick, damp snow. Everything is muffled, traffic sounds, voices in the streets, ambulance sirens, everything. If driving you can hear the air conditioner underneath the radio, the occasional windshield wipe, the sticky wet of intersections. The cold white mute button of the world.

When I was younger, I would jump into the swimming pool, and sink straight to the bottom. Shutting out the sounds around me, being gently rocked back and forth by the motion of the water. Peaceful. Serene. Quite unlike the sharp snaps and far off honks and raised voices on the surface. Spend enough time in the water, and the air feels different; harsher, more vibrant, empty.

I wonder what it means, that I am quite skilled in shutting out the world. To not only have a list of methods, but preferences among them. Working my way through a crowd for example, is an excellent way to be alone. And when alone, talking to people I'm not with as though I had company. No matter where I am, I always have a handy solution for being somewhere else.

Very few exceptions I suppose, and even then, just twists on the same old theme. When I'm dancing, I'm inside the music, when love making I'm intertwined with someone else. But very rarely am I just me. Perhaps when I'm sleeping. We are what we dream, after all.

So quiet right now. The world holding its breath, waiting til it has to rise. Never takes as long as I wish it would.

And So It Was

It's interesting, being able to look back at past pages. To see in through a temporal window, and be able to gauge what has gone on.

And so it was that I awoke, having been lulled to sleep by stagnant decay. Nothing had really changed between the Muse and I, she was as incapable of stepping forward as I was of staying back.

It was a rough way to end such a beautiful thing. A few days of of tense words, and she was gone gone gone, the vacuum of her presence still just as real as her being. Off to rewrite history, create a villian, make a martyr. As oblivious to her faults as she is to her true strengths. One-sided well wishes I think, from me to her, but that is the way it is with her. No middle ground, no grey; you are everything or nothing. It drove me mad, and still I will miss it so.

There are many things I won't miss, but I will tuck those away. She was who she was, and although I always hoped for more, I can't really fault her for staying that way. I thought I saw something I didn't. I thought in a different situation she would unfold, god, such potential. A stunning creature capable of great things. And maybe still she'll achieve them. But not with me.

But all of that was some time ago. Two months I think. Forever in my world. Gone is gone. I would love to relay some tale about picking up the shattered pieces of my life, but it didn't happen. My life grew stronger almost instantly. More drive, more focus. Clear goals, targets, organization, physical improvement. Bad habits put away, new ones forged in sweat and time.

There is no possible way to have accomplished these things with her here, and that is I suppose why she had to go. There is little use for inspiration without real accomplishment. Without progress, adaptation, and the ability to self-assess, the world changes while one falls further and further behind.

Being told what to do is of no real significance, knowing what you should do is. And above all things, being able to do it. Even people who only follow instructions get a gold star if they do it well. Inspiration with zero execution is only a daydream, and so its only a matter of time before it ends.

And so it was that I awoke. And reality is just a bit more grim than I remember. I'm older now. Less options. More injuries. Battle worn. Wary as hell. It'd be nice to rest my head for a while, but I have to keep going. Wherever she is, she needs me. Hope to hell I find her soon.