Monday, January 23, 2012


***
Oh sweetheart, what a dank gray day, just relentless, the world here melting from pristine cover to drear mud slush. I took a walk this morning, some by the creek, frozen at the banks, semisolid gradations of gray formed at either side of a narrow inlet between the mainland and a small parallel island several yards away. The frozen swathes -- atmospheric Rothkoesque bands -- dissolved at the center, liquid center pupil reflecting - perfectly clear - bare trees against blank sky.

I've had a bit of a hard time today, mostly due to the weather. I simply do not fare well without sun. I couldn't even muster a workout today. I played the electronic keyboard a bit, just to fool around with the buttons. I went to the supermarket, mostly to get out of the house. I didn't feel ambitious in the cooking department, so tonight it will be small panfried steaks, baked potato, and mesclun salad. Also I'm steaming artichokes -- there's an unusual aroma of lime & artichoke wafting upstairs -- I substitute lime for lemon juice sometimes -- since lemons are pricey and I often find limes by the half-dozen on the 'reduced' shelf - and they seem very interchangeable to me.

Truly nothing to report. I feel off my game. Part of it is that I woke up this morning for some reason thinking very much of 1.0 -- I mean I often do, but these thoughts were somehow more intense than I've had in a while. I can't account for it -- I don't remember my dreams from last night -- I just don't know. I was restraining myself from sending him a brief message -- because honestly I felt - what's the point -. I went for a walk, because that's what I do - but also to shake the useless, slightly obsessive thoughts I was having, that go nowhere, etc., etc. And so I did -- encountering the Rothkoesque creek, and not much else except drear blank landscape (not a heath, just a ghost town of a wintry upstate hamlet). And when I returned home and as usual logged on, I found that I'd received a flurry of page-hits from the very place where he lives, or thereabouts close enough. But I couldn't tell if it was him or not, seemed uncharacteristic... Anyway, I ended up sending him a brief message just to say 'what's new' -- etc., etc.

Why am I so obsessive? Why can't I let go? It's just crazy. Why can't I be cool & contented? Actually, most days I'm pretty okay - I don't know what hit me today - and then with those mysterious pagehits on top of it, just to set me spinning a bit, to no resolution. I don't know, maybe he's set off on a long trip, and was signaling goodbye. Or maybe it was you - but of all the zillions of tiny IP'd hamlets on this earth -- if it was you, how could the hits have come from Arvada?

Sweetheart, please forgive this post, I'm truly off my game today. I woke up, head in my pillows in the dark room this morning, for some reason ruminating painful thoughts about 1.0 (perhaps seeing Sense and Sensibility yesterday was the trigger, but still, if so, it filtered through - sideways, and in my sleep). And at the same time I had the warmest most delightful sweet thoughts of you, and could readily imagine your being with me -- and to think of you is like having the sun come out, at least inwardly -- thoughts of you are so warm, fun, loving, kind, abiding -- no pain at all -- except for that of separation - except that I completely understand it, it's okay. It's a different kind of pain. But to think of you, and to think of you thinking of me -- it just sets me right, lifts my spirits immediately -- almost like an off/on switch, the contrast is as vivid and sudden as that. And so I try very hard to just keep to thoughts of you -- because they feel better --

thank you darling
Tinker...Tailor... Soldier... WO2 Traffic Cop

many kisses --
Bobolinska

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