Chapter 4

 It was all a terrible mistake initiated by an abyssal misunderstanding. The whole thing a rolling rollercoaster colliding into a gigantic pit of mud – mudding up everything! I am not an innocent bystander but the seeker of love. I showed a remarkable degree of naivete, and I was scooped, slammed, and devoured like a luscious dessert on a dessert plate. I am still not sure who was playing who due to my unconscious mind which seems to have a mind of its own. I play the good, innocent one stumbling along and stepping in it to my own disgrace. The real player lies hidden behind peeping through to see the hand play through. I am the front man so easily beguiled and trusting too but the other one is lurking in the backwater making hard and fast moves. Who is who?

I hear my mouth speaking but I can’t imagine I would say such things, but the incongruity is starting to mesh. I refuse to monitor my speaking voice because I was silent for so long; I give it full reign and a full head of steam. Hearing myself as if for the first time and the acquaintance is a strain on both of us. But the beautiful places I have been of late make me think it is all worth the risk. The unsureness, the mad cap adventures and deeper friendships are the result. Theoretically I suppose that love is like a marathon – it must be trained for – a lifelong obligation to myself, a layering of capacity to mold myself into a vessel capable of holding love. Training demands the sky to open and rain down a pouring erosive pounding until the heart gives in and opens. The emptiness of the opening is the driving force of the need to be filled. It propels and propagates and manifests until there is something with which to fill the gaping hole; it drives until it is filled. It is the existential matter which connects us to each other because we all have the same hole which needs to be filled. We are sisters and brothers in need, and it is the common denominator we share. But we must search for ourselves, and it is the lonely task which takes us into the wilderness of ourselves. To come out the other side whole is the task at hand and the chance to supersede the humdrum and make a spot for us. Words and intonations weave and snare to catch other’s words. Uttered and revealed – a new language – a perpetual moving display of sights and colors. The interplay and geometric occlusions which

punctuate each sentence is the drawing point. Am I ready for love – will I ever know?  Like carving and mounting an extra piece – a docking site – an interconnecting objective apparatus for a special one. The

torturous carving and pinning the mount – for inspection – am I ready – I do not know. Should I wear my heart on my sleeve? The demands of being ready for love puts me in the race. I am trying to merge

into a new lane and hopefully I will not be too scared. Just a chance to succeed – no special favors – just leave me to find you!

I have picked myself up off the floor and I am standing erect – not in a primates crouched stance – caught by evolutions games of half measures and concocted deviations. I am human if nothing else and it

has taken me years to say it. I am human and now what? What can I do with this humanity which has reached my doorstep? Can I find true love even now? To be determined as the saying goes. I must gently

relax into my new stance and let the song lyrics – come what may – absolve me of my sins and my shortcomings and absolve and consecrate my soul with Metallica’s Nothing Else Matters. The bottom is the

top – love is reaching from our genetic past with a hand to the future. The pure base instinct of procreation as a driving force has propelled our species into being the highest form of sentient being and love

is on the menu all day long!