| William Blake Jr. 2006-01-10, 6:01 pm |
| Is it possible to be a romantic hero and live to tell the tale?
This is a dilemma that I have been facing. Whether to make real the
visions of the greats or to work to become one of them.
Whether to live a novel or to write novels.
The great innovation of Internett is that it is possible to do both at
once.
And the goal for me: To take the motive that leads to romantic tragedy,
and turn it into romantic triumph. So that soul can not only exist but
live and enrich lives of the existing while inspiring the coming. And
thus to create an integrated existence in which soul can live.
There was a beautiful but very unhappy-looking girl that came to the
place I work. In the morning she came in with one man; in the evening,
with another. Before she came in in the evening, someone called, and
the number was 519-1995. I ran out, walked through construction site
barely noticing things around me, passed by an Infiniti (MLR drove an
Infiniti), and when I came back I told the man that the numbers meant
that his relationship with this woman was blessed. He thanked me.
"56" "57" "75" "69" "19" "95" in combinations..
"56": J's birth year
"57": Sputnik in space "75": My birth year
"69" summer of love
"19" the age I was in "95" which was my summer of love
How can it be that a person would start to need another person, when he
did not need her before? How can it be that the person would find it
impossible to get through the day without hearing from her, when he did
not know her several months previously? It seems as though the need is
created where it did not exist before. It seems as though a specific
hunger comes in and burns and tears. It seems as though orientation to
life becomes hijacked - as do goals, worldview, everything - in
presence of something that activates what is hidden or even unknown.
And then all preexisting comes out the window and - oh yes, and - what
else could possibly be worthwhile?
I refuse to learn wrong lessons. And to people who have been tricked
into learning wrong lessons, I am the first person to help see through
them. It's better to learn no lesson than it is to learn a wrong
lesson; and if you are finding someone pressing upon you to learn one
or another supposed lesson then that's the first sure sign that that
person is either lying or uninformed.
The reason: A person who wants to bludgeon something into your head is
not someone who has your best interests at heart. ANd if he thinks he
does, then what he fails to realize is that you are you, he is he, and
what works for you is not what works for him.
Each romance had a flavor. MLR had a delicate, compassionate flavor
that elevated me into highest pitch and made life exist at extreme
heights of intensity. Kay had a burning, splintering, schizophrenic
feeling that opened before me riches of feeling that I never knew could
exist. Layo was both thoughtful and inspiring, and went through all
kinds of places, both good and bad, but was almost at all times fun and
comfortable and adventuresome. Michele was a bouquet of brains with
both tremendous beauty and much pain, who motivated spiritual wisdom.
Julia - incredible poetic closeness and beauty and compassion that
motivated me to write a book and made me a poet.
How could I have conceivably anticipated that I would feel any of these
things?
If I had come into life knowing what I wanted, would I have known or
felt all these things?
If I was "taking responsibility for my life" and operating
according to goals would I have been open to these experiences?
There is no responsibility without knowledge, and there is no knowledge
without experience of things external to upbringing. And the happiest
people are ones who let their goals find them.
So I was seeing the 56's and 75's and 95's on the clocks, and people
would call in with phone numbers containing special numbers. And there
were patterns of cars, with colors and types significant. I walked out
and saw outside a red Nissan Z. "Interesting twist" I chortled, and
then the next day I saw a Sebring. I started laughing like a maniac.
And then there was an Infiniti.
And yes, the numbers once again.
And at the bus station I saw 10-17 carved into the bench. The birth day
and month of J's priest brother.
Then I ran into an old couple. The woman was yelling at her husband,
then they sat inside the bus and held and cuddled each other. There are
many who want to get rid of such things. I don't: I am happy for them
and I hope that beautiful life be a reality for all people who would
want it. Whatever their age or nationality.
Pyaasa. I am thirsty, I am thirsty. A friend said that the Russian soul
is hungry and it feeds the spiritual hunger of the world. I never
learn; I should not. It is by refusing to accept superficial
explanations and fallacies that one keeps alive the profound.
Stubbornness has a virtue: Of keeping alive what is true in presence of
fads that want to see it die.
The question is not whether people do want romantic beauty, but whether
they WOULD want it. And that is the perspective from which to operate.
So I was thinking about thinking referential and intrinsic: Of seeing
mental processes in reference to a model or a method, as opposed to
experiencing them from within. And I said that it was important to
experience the feelings before studying them. That studying without
experiencing leads to lack of compassion; and I decided to put myself
mentally and even physically in positions of people I wanted to
understand.
Each day is Inferno - Cloud 9 Express. Each day is a gut-twisting ride.
Each day is a symphony played on nerves. Each day is celebration of
passion.
I would not have it any other way.
I am thirsty. I am thirsty.
It's unbelievable how good water tastes when one's lips are parched.
Ilya Shambat
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