Kurrs' Digital Tapestry of Words

People are over. Navi who was quick to smile and disprove her apparition status and was just as quick to leave. Ryan with his soft spoken and well dressed demeanour who ended up deciding to rub my back. Jhayne who spent the day with me going to farmer's market and digital camera shopping and now has unsurprisingly conquered my computer. Dominique is absent, but not for long, she'll be along again shortly, as will Andrew when his girl has retrieved him.

I miss my digital camera and its wonderful anachronism that matches the glorified typewriter I'm on now. I am becoming nostalgic, which is something I fought against but I'm not quite sure how to avoid given my belief structure. While I am a bit of an ascetic, rejecting unnecessary consumption as a general stance, there is also the deep respect I have for the resources that go into things. Work, material, and the waste that come from making these things. Objects are precious, not to be discarded lightly. Repair, reuse, restore. This means you gain a certain affinity with the things you own, like they are a part of your life, and, to a certain extent, you. That's the camera, trusty and true, dropped once but not dead. That's the laptop, finnicky and slow but will work and last. That's the backpack, it fits me and my lifestyle well. Things can be replaced, but I don't want to replace them, that's waste. I'd rather just keep the original thing.

It's weird writing while physically in contact with another human being. Blogging being a fundamentally solitary activity, much like writing in a physical journal. I find I go back, rewrite more, move slowly towards perfection. Unlike the normal modus operandi, like Jhayne, where the words tend to fall like raindrops of fingers upon the keyboard, each word flowing and forgotten before the next is written. Human contact reminds me of my surroundings, of what I've written. It makes my writing flawed, but more like architecture, less like improvised music.

I burnt bacon today, which is a bit of a statement of my mental state. I do so loathe wasting food, and it becomes all the worse when it is dead thing. So many resources, culminating in the death of a creature for my survival and I burnt it? The disrespect and disgraceful affluence of it galls me to my core. Survival requirements are like religion to me. Food, shelter, love, accomplishment, work. The dance of things interacting so that they may survive. Disrespect done to these processes is like heresy and brings about vehemence is me like not much else.

Still no work, it looks like we'll be back on Monday.

...

While she might be in the night, and the sun has yet to rise and the darkness is all around her, you are still her moon. And while that is not enough light to live, it is still the moon and it would be hard to ignore, despite the rest of the dark sky and the stars.

I find myself playing the role I hate so much. The distraught lover that isn't. I was so certain that it couldn't happen. You take care of her came the request that mirrored my own thoughts. Everyone was concerned about her, yet I was the one that got hurt. No one was worried about me, and I suppose I should take that as a compliment but doesn't make the whole situation hurt less.

If you had asked me the three most unlikely things to happen that morning, him throwing me out of the house would have been on the list. You could have locked me up in a closet and told me to write things down that I thought might happen that day and I would have gotten further than a hundred before writing that.

It just is, so I just lived with it..

I agree with the last part, but I am not usually surprised. My baffling tends to come double-layered. First, I'm baffled by an event, but second I am baffled by the fact that something happened that baffled me. It's not that I didn't see it coming, but more that I still don't understand the gears that would bring about this particular event. Very little surprises me, the world is so terribly predictable. Especially with this in mind, something not making sense is so very... baffling.

...

Me, Jhayne, and Dominique are so very very close. However, none of us are in a relationship with a big R with each other. So, we end up norm-breaking pretty significantly around others. Because people who are merely friends are not as emotionally or physically affectionate with each other as we are. This creates problems because our interaction doesn't fit in the normal conceptual constructs of others.

So, often the assumption is that we're sleeping together or that acting that way towards friends is acceptable. The first one is easy to dismiss, so suddenly other people start thinking that the amount of intimacy we share with each other is fair game for any other friends. This isn't as much of a problem for me (who has entirely different issues), but for Dominique who doesn't touch people or for Jhayne who doesn't want to be touched this can cause difficulty.

The real answer is (c), which is that our interaction is something different altogether, but asking other people to invent new interpersonal roles in their social interaction paradigm might be a bit much. Even if it is the truth.

I also find this with my interaction with Tim and Erin, for instance, as I'm sure Jhayne has similar stuff with Ryan. For me, it tends to be people that I love and as such often means they are exes. Ties in with the fact that when I say I love you it means for keeps. The Relationship might end, but that won't. I mean, I could be wrong, I've only been around for about a quarter century, but it seems to be the case so far.

I'll let you know if anything changes.

Written On: Laptop
Currently Eating: Burger with ketchup, mustard, heritage tomato, clover sprouts, fried egg, on a whole wheat bun. Almost entirely organic, the whole thing reminds me that I have a better standard of living than any of the kings of France ever did.