Friday, February 5, 2010

Definitions and Identities

This post will probably be evidence of how schizophrenic I am. I just can't seem to make up my mind on so many things. After a short-lived burst of anger a few days ago, I am now back to my old normal self - that self that adores His Royal Weirdness - the good, the bad, with the imperfections themselves making the entire Baffling Phenomenon wholly perfect. While Dr. Jekyll basks in the glory of this unadulterated though bewildering spiritual connection, the insatiable Ms. Hyde aspires for the banality of formula love stories - to sacrifice what is utterly mysterious and terrifying for a more predictable and less riveting ending.

Last night, as I and my Baffling Kindred were musing about Grace and the strange but exciting design of things, I just realized, "Oh my God, what have I wished for? Please save that adventure you have planned for me from it's greatest enemy - myself."

Aung San Suu Kyi once said, "How wonderful it is that we do not know what tomorrow will bring." Jesus himself reminds us that tomorrow will worry about itself. I have such little faith...

Now that I'm past anger stage, acceptance comes. But it has nothing to do with the acceptance of a state of loss, or the mourning over something that wouldn't come. It's the acceptance of the reality of mysteries, that some things that happen can just elude logic - the highest currency of the human mind.

Last night, I had another amazing conversation over dinner with To-Whom-This-Post-Concerns. And though the probability of him ever reading these posts is extremely low and even minute, I have a duty to put some things into writing: There's no anger at all, there never was, and there never will be.

To-Whom-This-Post-Concerns, His Royal Weirdness, Him That Bewilders, The Phenomenon That Baffles, Birthday Boy #3, My Good Friend J - I have called him a lot of names in this blog. I have never defined him, and perhaps, for a long time, I never will.

For to define is to limit.


"Romance lives by repetition, and repetition converts an appetite into an art. Besides, each time that one loves is the only time one has ever loved. Difference of object does not alter singleness of passion. It merely intensifies it. We can have in life but one great experience at best, and the secret of life is to reproduce that experience as often as possible.”

“Even when one has been wounded by it, Harry?” asked the Duchess, after a pause.

“Especially when one has been wounded by it,” answered Lord Henry.

- From The Picture of Dorian Gray

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