Living Social

It will Hopefully darken the space
between me and the steady stream of community

It is the one nod to base people

The Crucible

reading his poetry
you wouldn't guess what happened to his relationship

grief and longing seem obvious
But there is something more.

I see compassionate fidelity
which was the crucible of this story

LXV

by Pablo Neruda

Matilde, where are you? Down there I noticed,
under my necktie and just above the heart,
a certain pang of grief between the ribs,
you were gone that quickly.

I needed the light of your energy,
I looked around, devouring hope.
I watched the void without you that is like a house,
nothing left but tragic windows.

Out of sheer taciturnity the ceiling listens
to the fall of the ancient leafless rain,
to feathers, to whatever the night imprisoned:

so I wait for you like a lonely house
till you will see me again and live in me.
Till then my windows ache.

No Special Hurry

by Ernest Hemingway

“That night at the hotel, in our room with the long empty hall outside and our shoes outside the door, a thick carpet on the floor of the room, outside the windows the rain falling and in the room light and pleasant and cheerful, then the light out and it exciting with smooth sheets and the bed comfortable, feeling that we had come home, feeling no longer alone, waking in the night to find the other one there, and not gone away; all other things were unreal. We slept when we were tired and if we woke the other one woke so no one was not alone. Often a man wishes to be alone and a girl wishes to be alone too and if they love each other they are jealous of that in each other, but I can truly say we never felt that. We could feel alone when we were together, alone against the others. It has only happened to me like that once. I have been alone while I was with many girls and that is the way you can be most lonely. But we were never lonely and never afraid when we were together. I know that the night is not the same as the day: that all things are different, that the things of the night cannot be explained in the day, because they do not then exist, and the night can be a dreadful time for lonely people once their loneliness has started. But with Catherine there was almost no difference in the night except that it was an even better time. If people bring so much courage to this world the world has to kill them to break them, so of course it kills them. The world breaks every one and afterward many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry.”

Albert

"It was, of course, a lie what you read about my religious convictions, a lie which is being systematically repeated. I do not believe in a personal God and I have never denied this but have expressed it clearly. If something is in me which can be called religious then it is the unbounded admiration for the structure of the world so far as our science can reveal it."

Link

Bits

I’m tired of doing bits.

It’s a comedy term that functions by extending a premise; interjecting quippy shit and constant veering away from seriousness or gravity. In this way, sincere communication is sidestepped and your trembling core made inaccessible. We’re protected. We’re validated as intellectually dexterous. We’re safely apart.

I’ve been listening to podcasts like all the time for a while now. It’s not just entertainment. Recently, I have come to realize that this is a form of self-medication. I am attempting to fill a nutritional need through desperate means. Stop what you’re doing and spend some time with the following examples. I present for your consideration:

WTF, Episode 300

You Made It Weird, Episode 84

These are good examples, but by no means the best examples. I have not stacked the deck. Do you have conversations like this? I do not have conversations like this. I used to try and we would really start to get somewhere and then someone would say, “Hey, The Simpsons are coming on” and I would be like, “what the fuck is wrong with you guys?”  

Don’t say it’s because I’m alone. Don’t reduce it that way. It’s not about that; this is a chronic, systemic issue and has been for years and years. Being in a relationship solves nothing in and of itself. Yes, I’m really late to the party on that one. It is the most potentially damaging example – we don’t reach out because there is no guarantee that someone will reach back.   

But when something happens in your life you want to tell someone. Maybe your mom. Your best friend. There are specific people you need to share crucial information with and without that “epilogue” the experience itself seems somehow unreal. You need to complete the circuit. I can’t seem to tell enough people anymore to make anything real. 

Sometimes I fear that the tires are coming off.

The real issue here is not with the group but with the individual. I realize this. Not everyone feels this same compulsion or maybe just not to this degree. It has to be fairly wide, though, right? At least wider? There are things you aren’t talking about. There are things you are not talking about enough. Don’t tell me you’re fine with it. No one can be fine with it. There is something more and you know that instinctively. Maybe your needs are being met but I’m skeptical.

I’m just yelling out the window.

When Someone Great Is Gone