The Morning Routine/Alan's Odyssey
"Due to a construct in my mind that makes their falling and their flight symbolic of my entire existence,
It becomes important for me to get up" is what I hear, every morning, when I wake up. My cell phone plays CAKE's little known, "Mr Mastodon Farm" up until the point where its protagonist gets up. The first time this happened, it was by accident; I just happened to stop the alarm at the right spot. Every morning since, I have gotten out of bed faster and faster, just to make sure I get to the phone in time. Sometimes I think I'm not terribly different from the pigeons I work with, only the birds are sensible enough to only develop behaviors in response to reward; I've developed a behavior purely out of personal satisfaction. Is that the dividing line between us and them?
Tonight is maybe the third time I've heard thunder since arriving here in Fall of 2004. I walked back from Greenway in a light drizzle, and the lightning gave me a few seconds of virtual daylight. Symbolically, rain, thunder and lightning represent upheaval and divine intervention, as well as a sort of cleansing. What, in my life, has been cleansed?
I have, for years, had the pleasure of knowing a wonderful, brilliant, beautiful girl. At present moment, she is far away from me, and we are taking this time apart to explore the last of this adolescent terrain, before setting up camp together. I never thought I'd apply the phrase "engaged to be engaged" to myself, but then there were times when I didn't think I'd ever find someone who loves me as much as she does.
The lessons I learn, these days, are discreet and specific; I can see where they are taking me, and it is towards adulthood. I think of my experiences in love and sex in chapters, each with a specific moral which I, more or less, took with me into the following chapters. I've come to a point where I equate many of my exes with a specific lesson I learned, sometimes to the point that the ex is no longer an important character to the story. I tell this story, again and again, to each subsequent significant other, to show them the ways in which I won't hurt them, so that they might anticipate the ways in which I might. Ultimately, I will tell this story to my children and hope that they will know better than to make my manifold mistakes.
And so, it seems to me that I am approaching the end of this long and winding road (props, Paul). I feel not only closer to her--our future together--but more certain that it will happen. It is strange, then, that I should find myself straying. Straying, perhaps, is not the right word, but it is the first that comes to mind.
Every relationship I have ever had has ended, and with that end, I learned a lesson. I find myself entering into one last relationship, one last stab at bachelorhood, wondering what could possibly go wrong. The same boy who, instead of measuring dicks, used to compare his various tragedies and injustices with those of his friends; that same boy, now, feels at the top of his game. In a week and a half's time, I have met and captured another beautiful and intelligent girl. What's more, she feels lucky to be with me.
She reminds me of myself in so many ways. I feel like she is the answer to my only unanswered prayer: I wish I could date myself. As we discussed our respective positions and feelings towards each other, I felt like shouting "I'm Spartacus!" to see if she'd say the same.
In the past, I have done most of the legwork of establishing relationships. I am in eternal pursuit, or so I felt until I learned that it was I who was being pursued. So now, in what I see as the closing chapters of my childhood, I am finally pursued. Not by one, or even two, but by three. I'd never dreamed of such demand, and it is a shame that I cannot supply myself as in traditional economics.
But still, I wonder, in this new relationship that must eventually end.... what will go wrong? What will be the lesson behind this dreadlock holiday (props, 10cc)? I'd love to believe that the only lesson I can learn, here, is what it is like to date myself. I fear that the lesson will be that I shouldn't have embarked on this last voyage at all. If I become stranded, somewhere between Hades and Calypso's isle, I hope I'll be able to find my way home to that familiar bed; rooted firmly in place, waiting for me to return.
One last battle, dear. One last.
-Alan
It becomes important for me to get up" is what I hear, every morning, when I wake up. My cell phone plays CAKE's little known, "Mr Mastodon Farm" up until the point where its protagonist gets up. The first time this happened, it was by accident; I just happened to stop the alarm at the right spot. Every morning since, I have gotten out of bed faster and faster, just to make sure I get to the phone in time. Sometimes I think I'm not terribly different from the pigeons I work with, only the birds are sensible enough to only develop behaviors in response to reward; I've developed a behavior purely out of personal satisfaction. Is that the dividing line between us and them?
Tonight is maybe the third time I've heard thunder since arriving here in Fall of 2004. I walked back from Greenway in a light drizzle, and the lightning gave me a few seconds of virtual daylight. Symbolically, rain, thunder and lightning represent upheaval and divine intervention, as well as a sort of cleansing. What, in my life, has been cleansed?
I have, for years, had the pleasure of knowing a wonderful, brilliant, beautiful girl. At present moment, she is far away from me, and we are taking this time apart to explore the last of this adolescent terrain, before setting up camp together. I never thought I'd apply the phrase "engaged to be engaged" to myself, but then there were times when I didn't think I'd ever find someone who loves me as much as she does.
The lessons I learn, these days, are discreet and specific; I can see where they are taking me, and it is towards adulthood. I think of my experiences in love and sex in chapters, each with a specific moral which I, more or less, took with me into the following chapters. I've come to a point where I equate many of my exes with a specific lesson I learned, sometimes to the point that the ex is no longer an important character to the story. I tell this story, again and again, to each subsequent significant other, to show them the ways in which I won't hurt them, so that they might anticipate the ways in which I might. Ultimately, I will tell this story to my children and hope that they will know better than to make my manifold mistakes.
And so, it seems to me that I am approaching the end of this long and winding road (props, Paul). I feel not only closer to her--our future together--but more certain that it will happen. It is strange, then, that I should find myself straying. Straying, perhaps, is not the right word, but it is the first that comes to mind.
Every relationship I have ever had has ended, and with that end, I learned a lesson. I find myself entering into one last relationship, one last stab at bachelorhood, wondering what could possibly go wrong. The same boy who, instead of measuring dicks, used to compare his various tragedies and injustices with those of his friends; that same boy, now, feels at the top of his game. In a week and a half's time, I have met and captured another beautiful and intelligent girl. What's more, she feels lucky to be with me.
She reminds me of myself in so many ways. I feel like she is the answer to my only unanswered prayer: I wish I could date myself. As we discussed our respective positions and feelings towards each other, I felt like shouting "I'm Spartacus!" to see if she'd say the same.
In the past, I have done most of the legwork of establishing relationships. I am in eternal pursuit, or so I felt until I learned that it was I who was being pursued. So now, in what I see as the closing chapters of my childhood, I am finally pursued. Not by one, or even two, but by three. I'd never dreamed of such demand, and it is a shame that I cannot supply myself as in traditional economics.
But still, I wonder, in this new relationship that must eventually end.... what will go wrong? What will be the lesson behind this dreadlock holiday (props, 10cc)? I'd love to believe that the only lesson I can learn, here, is what it is like to date myself. I fear that the lesson will be that I shouldn't have embarked on this last voyage at all. If I become stranded, somewhere between Hades and Calypso's isle, I hope I'll be able to find my way home to that familiar bed; rooted firmly in place, waiting for me to return.
One last battle, dear. One last.
-Alan
posted by Alan Orlanski at 12:23 AM
1 Comments:
hm....
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