Monday, March 21, 2005
In the Light
Before I forget : This is really funny.
*****
I've been meaning to, you know. For the longest time. Update my blogroll on the left. So many people are linking me now that it's a little overwhelming.
But.
So little time. So little energy.So many blondes at the gym.
Well okay there was only one today, and it wasn't the same gym as the last time, nor the same blonde. She didn't quite have the angellic face, but 99% of the men were not so surreptitiously undressing her with their eyes. The other 1%, I found out later as I luxuriated in a too-hot shower, were from Planet Fitness. (I overheard them, okay?)
ie, they were gay.
For those of you not plugged into the gym scene.
*****
"How do you know?" she asked.
"..." he replied.
"How do you know you love me. Maybe you just love girls like me."
Years later, he thought as he drove home... it was a good hypothesis.
*****
I'm sorry it felt the way it did; all I can say is that it wasn't the way it looked.
It wasn't planned.
That's probably a terrible apology. It is, in fact.
Nonetheless, it is an apology.
*****
I'm sad today. Can you tell? Probably not.
Something has happened which makes me remember what I hated most about this place.
We laugh about a climate of fear, once in a while some intrepid soul speaks or writes about it and loses his job, or becomes expelled from the country.
But the thing that bugs me most isn't the fear itself, but the fear of fear - the pre-emptory pre-fear.
The media censors itself, and apparently so too do other professional groups - for fear of offending the government.
And when they do, all it takes is an ominous invitation to dine with the head honcho, the son in the father / son / holy Goh trinity - a high-flying rap on the knuckles - and everything goes back to square one.
We will never grow up.
We're so goddamn childish.
And none of us have the intestinal fortitude to stand up and be heard, to band together and become more than we are - because we fear.
For our institutions. For our departments. For our careers, for our positions.
For our families.
And most of all, for ourselves.
I know now that I may live here for a while, but I will never, ever want to die here.
*****
One of the things that he loved most about her wasn't so much her easy-go-lucky ness. She was a very focused individual in many ways. Not averse to picking on pickpocket grannies either.
It may not even have been her. It might have been them.
Every moment of togetherness was intense, funny, magical - alive.
Sometimes bordering on slightly loopy. Email accounts bombarded to death within an hour, in a frenzied attempt to slip past the uni firewalls...
There were no boundaries. No time limits, no hurry to finish, yet no disappointment if it was fleeting - the moments were just... there.
He savoured them all. No expectations.
And he had a sense that she did, as well.
In between the moments, he didn't hunger. He didn't burn. He just lived his own life (although there were the odd moments when he walked down the street in winter, overcoat undone and arms akimbo, feeling... alive), not quite waiting with bated breath for that next moment... but knowing that it would come when it came. And every time it came, it was a fresh new surprise to be savoured.
Every hello? sounded faintly surprised.
Every goodbye was warm, amused. Contented.
Every coming together of beings was tentative, yet familiar.
No expectations.
Perhaps he was wishy washy... but that was how they were, together. That was why it was special.
Years later he knows that it isn't love that he misses - love, it's overrated. He isn't sure anymore if he still misses her. But perhaps part of him still misses them.
Still trying to get up and come alive.
Still waiting for the light... and another bringer of light.
*****
I've been meaning to, you know. For the longest time. Update my blogroll on the left. So many people are linking me now that it's a little overwhelming.
But.
So little time. So little energy.
Well okay there was only one today, and it wasn't the same gym as the last time, nor the same blonde. She didn't quite have the angellic face, but 99% of the men were not so surreptitiously undressing her with their eyes. The other 1%, I found out later as I luxuriated in a too-hot shower, were from Planet Fitness. (I overheard them, okay?)
ie, they were gay.
For those of you not plugged into the gym scene.
*****
"How do you know?" she asked.
"..." he replied.
"How do you know you love me. Maybe you just love girls like me."
Years later, he thought as he drove home... it was a good hypothesis.
*****
I'm sorry it felt the way it did; all I can say is that it wasn't the way it looked.
It wasn't planned.
That's probably a terrible apology. It is, in fact.
Nonetheless, it is an apology.
*****
I'm sad today. Can you tell? Probably not.
Something has happened which makes me remember what I hated most about this place.
We laugh about a climate of fear, once in a while some intrepid soul speaks or writes about it and loses his job, or becomes expelled from the country.
But the thing that bugs me most isn't the fear itself, but the fear of fear - the pre-emptory pre-fear.
The media censors itself, and apparently so too do other professional groups - for fear of offending the government.
And when they do, all it takes is an ominous invitation to dine with the head honcho, the son in the father / son / holy Goh trinity - a high-flying rap on the knuckles - and everything goes back to square one.
We will never grow up.
We're so goddamn childish.
And none of us have the intestinal fortitude to stand up and be heard, to band together and become more than we are - because we fear.
For our institutions. For our departments. For our careers, for our positions.
For our families.
And most of all, for ourselves.
I know now that I may live here for a while, but I will never, ever want to die here.
*****
One of the things that he loved most about her wasn't so much her easy-go-lucky ness. She was a very focused individual in many ways. Not averse to picking on pickpocket grannies either.
It may not even have been her. It might have been them.
Every moment of togetherness was intense, funny, magical - alive.
Sometimes bordering on slightly loopy. Email accounts bombarded to death within an hour, in a frenzied attempt to slip past the uni firewalls...
There were no boundaries. No time limits, no hurry to finish, yet no disappointment if it was fleeting - the moments were just... there.
He savoured them all. No expectations.
And he had a sense that she did, as well.
In between the moments, he didn't hunger. He didn't burn. He just lived his own life (although there were the odd moments when he walked down the street in winter, overcoat undone and arms akimbo, feeling... alive), not quite waiting with bated breath for that next moment... but knowing that it would come when it came. And every time it came, it was a fresh new surprise to be savoured.
Every hello? sounded faintly surprised.
Every goodbye was warm, amused. Contented.
Every coming together of beings was tentative, yet familiar.
No expectations.
Perhaps he was wishy washy... but that was how they were, together. That was why it was special.
Years later he knows that it isn't love that he misses - love, it's overrated. He isn't sure anymore if he still misses her. But perhaps part of him still misses them.
Still trying to get up and come alive.
Still waiting for the light... and another bringer of light.
