Tuesday, February 27, 2007


I recently posted this:

Enough of the evening, night, and morning was delightful to make me feel that for all the considerable arguments against it, it was without question the right thing to do. Whether it has any future is another question entirely.

And that is the real question. My own emotional storms aside -- and I knew they were coming, which is why I thought waiting an entire year was the best way to go, if not, alas, possible in the end -- I have to say that I can't really see how it could have a future. Its past is brief enough, and its present exists solely in absence.

There is no fool, they say, like an old fool.

And somewhere in the back of my mind is the still, small voice that says: so this is what you left the one person you have ever loved for -- the person whose loyalty, humor, and affection meant everything to you. I think we are, with this little "event," back to my standing mantra of:

"I'm fucked."

Because I really think I am, and it has nothing to do with the physical, except perhaps as metaphor. I am in the wilderness, with no promise of tablets or mountaintops or covenants.

Just me and the endless expanse of sand...

Pray for me.
I seem to have lost the ability to do it myself somewhere along the way.


  1. Hi Troll.

    I will. Tonight and tomorrow morning...and after that too.

    Your friend.


  2. Know that when I do I pray for you.

    It seems I am just another blogger that often feels fucked by the choices he made, and not in a good way.