2002-09-20 - 12:30 a.m.

I just finished watching "The Royal Tenenbaums" on a thursday night at 12:30am, 7 1/2 hours before I must wake up and go to work again. So I figured it was a perfect time to update. That, and it just now started raining. It fits, really. I feel in many ways as if I've just had a section of my life played out in front of me, and that I've had a chance to reflect on it, subconsciously. Like rain, it has cleansed a bit. The dirt is still there, but it's been tracked down to the ground, a little less dingy, a little more manageable.

I'm half way between writing a real update, and just blathering for a bit. I feel eloquence sitting in my tear-ducts, waiting for me to squeeze a few drops out. Might make me feel better. But I feel pretty good right now, and I'm not certain I want to lose this feeling of expectancy. Like an isolation excercize: you isolate a muscle, a movement, a moment in time, until you get to know what it is, apart from everything else. All things being variant, THIS remains the same, when it is there. One more piece of the puzzle.

It's funny that I keep using that phrase: not in this journal, but in my thoughts, and in the way that I describe things. Especially life. It is, in fact, my favorite metaphor for learning. When I was young, about 4ish, my brother and I would spend our time, sometimes, putting together puzzles. I have surprisingly vivid memories of that, of searching for the piece, of the strategies we worked out for doing it right, of the pieces, almost. Like if I found them lying on the street, somehow, I'd know what to do with them, and where they go. When we'd finally get it finished, we'd almost immediately pull it apart again, and reassemble it. Each time, we did it many times, we'd be a little faster, although we never noticed. There was something about pulling something apart and putting it back together, or of putting something together and then pulling it back apart, that I really like. I don't know which I like better.

That's what things are there for.

I do a lot of things that are reflections of that. I look at acting like that, as if the script was a puzzle in need of being pulled apart, and put back together, because otherwise you'll never really know what's going on. I do it with languages, I study just enough to figure out what it's like, what it's getting at, and then put it back together in my mind, fitting it with other pieces I've already pulled apart from other languages. It makes me happy, even though I still can't actually SPEAK another language. I sort of wonder if I ever will.

I do it with life. I think the one thing holding me together, not in the 'nervous breakdown' sense, but in the 'duct-tape on a broken china plate' sense, is a belief that if I just pay enough attention to what's going on around me, I'll be able to make sense out of everything. Like Life is a puzzle sitting around waiting to be solved, and I think I can do it. I've seen these pieces before, you see. Sometimes I do find them lying in the street. And I wonder, at the moment when I'm dead, will I have some sense of wholeness? Will I have seen enough? Will I just be missing one piece, and will that be enough for me? What is it that I need to do before I die? I know what I want, but what is it that will give me piece?

I don't know.

But I do know this: I went for blathering.

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