As Sad As You Can Get
Sometimes you think you’ve been as sad as you can get. Then you get sadder yet. Then you get so rage and pain and bleak and black past that sad that when you cry, tears of black blood run down your face and the days of scarlet are gone like birds that sing. Into the silent onyx world, soundless memories of you hauntedly appear. You gave me over for what? A piece of silver?
The sound track kicks in. You’re gone, you’re gone, all all gone, like a Roy Orbison song, the bitter way I was told, dreams of a fool, but stripped of the melancholy poetry like a wolf strips the skin from a deer to eat its just stopped beating heart. You have taken cad or coward to a whole new level of marvel. Not that I would actively wish you unquiet dreams, forfend, but that your careless horridness foments them.
So I’m exiled sans ceremony back to the Big Alone. Been there since I was six with this hiatus, this oasis, the shade of a palm, the chewy sweetness of dates, a cool, still pool. Et tu, Digrif? It was fated, you are gated – fat, old, too big a leap for a companion in spite of the mad delight & delicacies of our affinities? You had to choose the cliché in spite of your being so original. What a jagged waste under the stars of belonging and longing. You couldn’t jump across the crack which seemed a chasm. Once upon a time you may grok the waste of astonishing affinities occasionally of a rainy morning or of a racked <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = “urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags” />midnight. No, darling pal – I don’t don’t hurl a curse like a lightning bolt sear of pain – the circumstance is cursed. It’s like turning from art – you do it at charring peril to your truer heart.
Regret is an egret. Fringed feathers, elegant, calligraphic of flight. In your next walk down by the river, you find the bird tattered, rent, eaten by a jackal. You cannot put the bits of bone and bloody feathers back together for flight and that dearth was your own flightless choice. That is what hurt. That you would choose the predictable was so predictable. How ever not? They all do. Eschew flight in the end. We had a few arabesques in the sky, thee & I. Couldn’t quite break the quantum barrier, the ionosphere, the last edge of air where Earth embraces space. I leapt as high & hard as I could with every levity and ingenuity of daring and caring I could devise, but in the end, the gravity of the expected sucked you back down to the ground. You let go of my hand and fell into the dangerless. That it will, all too soon, bore you to agony is only whispers in the wind, which will howl, now.
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Treachery from a pal is unbearable.
But people do get into emotional cul-de-sacs and sometimes they can't imagine a good way out. But then your friend is a guy and sometimes their depths of dumb cannot be plumbed . . .
Hard to write a comment, worthy. But I sure wish you'd have broken through.
Mr. Pogblog,
very sorry to read this. You aren't alone and I'm sure that'll be clear in a bit, but I imagine that doesn't make things feel any better.
Human beings are distinctly odd creatures. I would not change even one nano-second of all the obsidian hilarity he & me laughed in like a terrible, ecstatic ocean. I'd just leave off the latest funnyless bit.
Horribly, one does not die of a broken heart.
So I press on, regardless.
Thanks for the support, esfera, elsa, cl. It does matter.
fwiw, I'm very sad to hear about you and Clive Owen. I won't ever see his movies again.
Clive (sigh) is the best movie actor who ever lived. The camera adores him. Sniffle.
You should see all movies with Clive (sigh) in them even if they have Jennifer What's Her Name too. Just close your eyes unless it's a two-shot.
Yucks aside, see Beyond Borders — a do-good movie which is wonderful to watch. AND NO CG!!!!! All the shots are real except one twist of smoke rising in a wide shot of a jungle.
The Itness of Clive (sigh) is indescribable. Well, I could describe it if I weren't so heartbroken.
The 2nd best movie actor is Robbie Coltrane. Third, Cary Grant — not because he is handsome, but because he is easy on the screen — in his element, like a seal in water. After those, who cares.
I almost hate to recommend the most difficult movie I've ever seen, Bent. But if you have the nerve, rent it. Do NOT read one word about it. Just look at it. This is NOT a date movie. Actually the other guy in the scene with Clive (sigh) has the best and most awful scene or moment you will ever see in a movie. This movie will not work if you know anything about it. Not for children either. This movie is not fun, but it ought to be required viewing for every adult.
Look at all Clive's (sigh) oeuvre & you'll be devoted too. AND he's not a jerk.