Breaching the Gap

I've generally been planning these before I type them. That doesn't seem to be a sustainable way to output. More free-association! Less inhibition! (I know You didn't think that was possible for me.)

When did I last update? A week ago perhaps? The week before? I'm not sure. Time stretches and shrinks. A voice in my head often jests "Time is the joke!" And now the laughter is with me not at me.

So many people. So many conversations. So rich! As Joe D said on the car-ride back from shore-house "Ah, this is what it is to live a full life!" Indeed.

For the first time in forever, I like talking again. Though I still falter: stutter and stumble, apologizing and addenduming. It seems words always fall short of what I mean to say.

Ted Smith said to me this weekend in our year long conversation on a hilltop which was someone else's couch a funny word I'd never heard before. I asked him what it meant and he said he wasn't sure but it sounded like what he meant to say. Ah! That's what language is. I see.

To say that humans are social creatures seems a half-truth, because if we truly were, wouldn't we have a better way of communicating than speech? To say You know what an honest someone's thinking based on his words is like saying You understand the vastness of the ocean by looking at a waterfall. Deeply moving, chilling, awe-inspiring, mood-altering. Yes, it can be all things, but it's still just the faintest echo of the infinity going on inside someone's head.

To art! To art! To filling in the gaps.

I long to fill the spaces between our experiences with music and body language. I want, I need (!) to learn an instrument. When will I make time for this?

Sleep less! Live more!

But I don't know, when do the diminishing returns start? (Maybe around this morning when I dropped a box full of ice and samples all over the laboratory floor?)

But we need to compare notes on the abyss of unknowing! Yes, mine IS as big as Yours.

Don't hold in. Hold each other close. (These words sing in my head stretched out over hours, trembling, weeping (which is not like crying but the overflow of limitless thoughts seeping out the orifices making the voice and body quiver) back and forth with the interruption of doubts threatening to sprout. The seeds of Melancholy: "Your imploring is insufficient!" she screams.)

You're safe; You're safe. You will have food tomorrow. You will have a roof over Your head tomorrow. You will be safe tomorrow. I don't know these things to be true any more than You do, but I know they need to operate as truths for us to move forward. Even though everything about us tells us otherwise. Our social structure. Our language. Our brain chemistry. We must over-come this.

Our biological evolution is not moving as fast as our technological evolution; so we must un-stigmatize the "unnatural." The natural is insufficient. We are animals with the potential for endless understanding trapped inside our heads.