April 28, 2002 (idea)
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|Letter to the [zot-fot-DEATH|hubby], in transit, scrawled on [Dear Willa (from Portland)|paper, train-of-thought] style - if you're curious.|
I watched on the map as our plane's trajectory bent southward around [Columbus, OH|Columbus], passing it by. [Pennsylvania] remained on the right side of the screen - i imagine you somewhere there, driving, fighting sleep, heading [Columbus, OH|home] to work. We descended past a spectacular ocean sunset above the clouds into a night-wrapped [Cincinnati]. Looks like the [Looks like we're going to have weather|winds & the rains] say i'll be bunking it in the airport chapel tonight - so, surprise, i beat you to Ohio & i'll be staying (but not for long).
. - - ' ' ' - - .Leave it to [clampe|clamp][everything2 as a Community|e] to make magic out of something half-joking and completely [ad-hoc]. I'm baffled and bewildered when i try to classify [trying to explain Everything to your non-Everythingite friends|the creature we've created] - some strange [analogue] to [everything2 as a community|community], no longer the [everything as a literary composition|writing experiment] and [the alphabet is a playground|playground] i was so charmed with. I've contemplated quitting as the content i have to offer slips closer to the low end of our [mediocre] - [generalist]s are useful in the first stages of a knowledge project, but easily exposed as [hack]s later on! yet somehow - some of my strongest [yossarian|r][thefez|e][zot-fot-piq|l][sensei|a][flamingweasel|t][mojoe|i][chihuahua grub|o][joyquality|n][others, who are patient with me, and know i love them|ships] in the last few years have been directly attributable to E2 + the unique brilliancies of its people. Can we be a [diaspora] if we were never really together? Who knows, but within our kaleidoscopic variety, there does seem to be a [noderness] that we can call on as one calls on family, close or distant. Even if it's totally [i have little patience for essentialism|invented or imagined], it's real and its effects can be seen.
Granted, we walk into [gathering]s looking for friends + similarities + wonderful people. If we walked into the street, perhaps, every day with these expectations, we would be [My lovers suffocate me, crowding my lips, thick in the pores of my skin, jostling me through streets and public halls|besieged by friends] & the multicolored gifts of selves. A local community might develop? But [i digress.|this is not the issue]. The issue at hand is that we've chosen our people, they are scattered, we are everywhere, and everywhere full of longing and love. Sometimes great respect develops, or awe - sometimes jovial familiarity (though these are not exclusive). We have had our crises, affairs, feuds and marriages.
Now i'm no theologian nor great believer in the institution of marriage (as spiritual, social, or legal phenomenon). However, as an anthropology student, i am a great believer in the power of ritual & symbolism & groupness. This event, however tossed off, however full of [satire], was [witness]ed to. Though not man & wife in any traditional sense of the word (that i'm aware of!) - we are something. I intend to wear (or carry somehow, until i can make it fit) yr ring and know that i will (as ever, really) do anything i can for you - but now our people know it too. And i think, i think, that brings them closer to each other as well, in some intangible way.
What for? Well, i can't say. Have you read [Kurt Vonnegut|Vonnegut]'s [Slapstick]? His final president of the U.S., while ineffectual in every other way, gives [the ever-lonely American people] the gift of family by assigning [desperately disillusioned peasant acquaintances|everyone] a new middle name - so every Daffodil-12 might find home + help wherever he goes - just find another Daffodil-12.
[I do not doubt that each of us is lonely.] More people i know than seems possible are depressed, are trapped, are collapsing into themselves or bearing up under unbelievable burdens of heartache or weariness. We've stopped short of assigning ourselves new legal [Laurel Everything-2 Hoyt|names] (otherwise imagine how quickly we'd be pinpointed as [cranks and cultists]!)* but it must be something other than the booze that brings us far, on the brinks of our selves, our sleeplessness, our social ability, and makes us fall in love with the idea of this family & with each other.
Don't [King of the Duck People|you] go telling me i got the short end of this deal. Though i don't know if this means i will see you more, it means you know i wish i could. You are unlike anyone i know, an [the cracker scale|infinite-cracker] gem (who needs karats?). While it's true that this could be said of several noders, other prized friends, i think we have an understanding. Though we don't really write anymore (so my [it's an online collaborative writing group thing, you wouldn't understand.|explanation of the site] flies out the window), we're still a part of all this and each other. Huzzah.
` - - . . . - - 'Tomorrow - i'll be cramped from sleeping on a pew. I'll take the [MAX] train home from the airport, walk into the house, drop my things. I'll be [The gravity is strong today. Damn this weather.|tempted to sleep], but instead i'll [sleep substitutes|shower]. It's all planned out.
I don't know who'll be home or if i'll have chewed the big bites of experience from this weekend enough to speak about them - perhaps i'll be elusive + taciturn. Maybe i'll be at ease + speak freely. At any rate, i'll walk off again to work.
The [Portland, OR|city] is full of flowers. It may rain but it won't matter. Gardens reach over the sidewalk and i'd hug them if i could. I made new [dann|fr][jaubertmoniker|ie][donfreenut|nd][cahla|s] [I'M GUNNA BE WICKED RETAHDED: Come for the scenery, stay for the BAP (another E2 nodah pahty)|this weekend] and they amaze me like new growth does. Contact with my old friends leaves something of itself with me, as when walking i rub my hand over the [rosemary] that grows into the walk.
We, when moved by great emotion, evaporate.The chapel is no longer empty.
Luckily, they've stopped talking - stranded and sleepy travellers like myself. I think i'll lie down and see what happens.
You never know until you try.
The sounds in this airport at 1 am remind me of giant living machinery. Of the imagination of the Chief in [One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest] - machinery, peopled by babbles & shrieks of the insane. How homey. But [liminal] - travelling from place to place, making themselves, dispersing themselves. This is industry of identity. This is losing onseself in the middle of the [USA|country]. This is liminality and [white noise|ambient noise].
This ring fits better on my thumb but i'm stubborn.