Of No Particular Consequence

I didn’t know it would come down to this.  He looking over my shoulder, me waiting for him to disappear.  But then again I guess we never really think anything Of No Particular Consequencewill come down to the way it does.  That’s life.  More circumstance than planning.  Have you ever heard anyone say that everything actually went according to plan?  Travel plans occasionally maybe.  That’s as far as it goes.

He kept sitting there.  Just looking.  Over my shoulder.  His breathing a steady hum drum of white noise in my ear.  My hair tussled, mind disheveled.  If only the path were more clear.  Circles, always walking in circles never finding the end.  Until it is the end.  Do you know it when you find it?  Is it as simple as exiting the hedge maze, after hours of searching for just the right pattern of twists and turns, exhaling in relief at the exit.  Or is it something more.  John Green’s idea of the Great Perhaps.  Though it wasn’t born in him he’s disseminated the idea to the up and coming generation.  I get it.  I follow.

But that gets me nowhere from here.  With him.  Breathing.  Over my shoulder.  Need to shake it.  Erase it.  But in order to do that I have to answer the question.  What is the question?  Is he the mad hatter?  I don’t know.  Wandering.  Wandering inside my own mind… pull out.  What do I see?  Nothing.  Just me.  And he, breathing.  Breathe.  Focus.  Blink.  Breathe.  Repeat.

The screen of my laptop comes into focus before me.  As if it hadn’t been in front of me for the last hour.  “What is it I’m supposed to be looking for?” I ask.

“Something of consequence” comes his dry reply.

“could you be more vague?” I quip

“no” he states simply and our brief banter comes to an end.  So I go back to staring at the blank screen.  What will please him?  I’ve been given no direction other than to find something of consequence.  Such a relative statement.  Everything and nothing can be and is or is not consequential depending on the state of mind, timeframe, and mood.  Any greater combination of things can drag into this subjective equation of no mathematical background and poof, you have consequence.  Drivel.  Spewing drivel to stall and spare myself.  What exactly?

I type into a Google search “consequence” and he immediately shoots it down.  I tell him not to criticize research skills and that I’m gearing up.  Connect the dots.  The chain game.  All patterns and linear thinking that can arrive at a place you hadn’t yet thought of and so I go.  First result, Merriam Webster’s Dictionary version of the word.  Of course I click in, there’s never one simple definition of an English word.   At least one that I’ve yet to find.  (If you come across one, let me know)

con·se·quence noun

1. the effect, result, or outcome of something occurring earlier: The accident was the consequence of reckless driving.

2. an act or instance of following something as an effect, result, or outcome.

3. the conclusion reached by a line of reasoning; inference.

4. importance or significance: a matter of no consequence.

5. importance in rank or position; distinction: a man of great consequence in art.

Take The Past And Shove It

I want nothing to do with the life that involved you.  I’ll take the furniture I bought.  The kids we had.  The stories, remembered more fondly than they were earned.  But as for the house, the town, the job, and the majority of the friends, I’ll leave them all behind.  Surgically removed like a tumor.  Exacting my revenge on your misery I take the treat of rebuilding a new life.  One where you are all but forgotten.  I know you feel me erasing you too.  You show it with the hesitation in your voice every time you speak to me.  Knowing that you willingly gave up all that you had and yet still unsure exactly what for.  Is it better now?  I wonder sometimes but it’s a fleeting thought at best these days.  Then again I never really knew what “it” was anyway.

The road before me is paved with golden sunlight, a multitude of flowers in full bloom.  Nearly any road before you looks like a blessing when you’ve wandered forth from the pits of hell.  Subjected to fire and evil by those sworn to love you.  Love isn’t something I’ve given up on.  It is something that is always present, forever around me, and true.  No I will never give up on love.  But I did give up on you.

But you gave up on me first.  Ultimately that singular fact is what gave me the power to walk away.  To remove myself from the toxic poison that you heaved upon my chest.  To see light.  To see opportunity.  To see me.  The me that is still reeling, tiptoeing across the surface of my life seeing the depth below the frozen water ready to plunge but afraid to die, again.  Not literally of course.  Perhaps all humans die a thousand deaths before they take their last breath.  Each death bringing new life.  My obsession with the Phoenix, explained.  Plain.  Black and White.

For a person of so many absolutes I’m always coming up with varied shades of grey.  Pantone effect. It’s the place that bleeds in between the absolutes where I find life.  That yin and yang.  What were you to me anyway?  A lesson learned?  A deeper look into what could be?  A stain to give me appreciation for the unscathed?  No.  Too cliché.  You were… everything I couldn’t ever be.  Or at least that’s what I used to think.  Sick, sad, beautiful and true.  Even if truth was something I could never get from you.  At least you taught me how to lie.  Too bad the only person I ever lied to was you.  Karma.

In Pursuit Of A Great Perhaps

Tradition. Belief. Artists. Couture. Gothic. Steampunk. Beauty.

In all things I find an unrest quite unlike the disposition I was raised to believe in.  A swelling under the surface.  A shift.

Mindfulness and spirituality override the doldrums of creationism. The masses now feeling the need to create and connect while distancing, never touching.  Forbidden is the unknown; keeps us awake at night.

I don’t want to find myself gone again, lost under restraint, placed between breaths.  Being alive is no longer enough.

Join me in the pursuit of more, yet consciously less.  Perhaps and enough.

Sister Cats

You have joined the epically disturbed masses. Welcome.