So let’s look at this thing. Let’s do the male thing and try to find some order in all of this chaos.
(1) Moving to NYC *if* I can find a place and some more $$$
(2) Doing a Ph.D. for better or for worse, assuming (1)
(3) Jobless here, there, or anywhere
(4) Without current personal contacts at my longtime publisher
(5) Spending a lot of time on low-pay freelance stuff
(6) Too Chinese for everyone, but too white to like to hang out with Chinese
(7) In medium-poor health physically, emotionally, and spiritually
(9) In need of having some dreams again, some real dreams that I can work toward
(0) Possibly alone in all of this, though I hope that’s not the case
When I was an undergrad I used to just like doing stuff. Now all these years later every last thing in life has taken on this bittersweet quality, from hanging out with family to hanging out with friends to being in relationships to just listening to some tunes.
I don’t know. There’s no order here. I have to make order. I just don’t know if it’s that moment yet, though. *sigh* I wish so many things were different right now, I don’t even know where to begin. It’s overwhelming. I walk along and I think about how the whole thing has gotten away from me and how that old cocksure Aron of yore is hiding under a rock these days.
I’ve seen a lot of beaten men in my life. Too many for comfort. I very much don’t want to become one of them. But I also don’t want to become a tyrant. I don’t know—is there middle ground for a man? Do I have to choose between life as a shadow of a man, life as a selfish brute of a man, or life as a tranny? Can anyone just be a regular guy in today’s world and survive?
Am I doing all the wrong things to make that possible? What should I be doing with myself, if all I want is to watch some college ball games, read a few novels, and and maybe write one someday? You can’t have what you want. That’s the deal. Gotta grab that and hold it and own it. I can’t have what I want. To try to have what I want is the way to unhappiness. To want is the way to unhappiness.
I guess I am a Buddhist.
The proverb goes: ours is not to determine, but merely to do.
Once, I was a brighter star. I enjoyed it then. I feel as though I could have that again, but I don’t feel as though it will make me happy.
She kept thinking all the best things I was trying to say were the worst. 🙁 I feel like I hurt her when I was trying to share all the goodness that I want to give her.
“Far away, in the highlands of Guatemala, we dreamed of Hapiya. I dreamed that I was reading his obituary in the Gallup Independent, but that it was wrong; it said he was eighty-seven, not seventy-two. On the same night, Dennis dreamed that Hapiya was discussing the text of the story of the Beginning with him, saying that two of the lines were two ways of saying the same thing. Then he awoke with a start, thinking he’d been with a man who was already dead.
“We asked Don Andrés, our Mayan teacher, to help us to understand our dreams. He asked for the date when Hapiya entered the hospital. It was the day Two No’j on the Mayan calendar, and he divined for us by combining the meanings of the calendar days, which he counted out with his bright-red divining seeds and sparkling crystals, with the lighning that raced through his blood.
“‘Come here, Lord Two No’j, Three Tijas, Four Kawuq, Five Junajpu, Six Imöx’—on through the calendar—’Four Kan, Five Kame. Oh, Lord Five Kame, Five Death. Yes, after he came to the hospital he was a little better. But then his condition became more grave. He was in agony. Already he is dead.’
“Don Andrés looked down at his right shin and said, ‘What happened was not a simple sickness, nor was it sent by God or the earth, it was the deed of a man. We humans envy what another possesses, we put our word into the shrines. Yes, some neighbor or friend is to blame.’
“‘Don Andrés, we know who it was, a neighbor who tried to kill his sheep.’
“Glancing toward his right armpit, he said, ‘The one who envied him is imprisoned, he does not walk on this earth, he died even before Hapiya did, but his deed remained.’
“Then he pointed behind his right knee. ‘Yes, it is so, my lightning speaks.'”