Fairies and fools celebrate today. They dance over things their brothers
call: alternative lifestyle. They rattle their bones on the side of the
closet door. I will not touch anyone until I either win or lose my Nordic
fantasy, the noble man whose eyes may very well have been looking for me.
I caught his eye over a month ago, did I write then of the magical lust
that filled my ki? No, not that simple earthlust of the groin we all know
so well. KH saw him Saturday as he left, so I surmised, I had just arrived.
Missed my destiny so to speak. He was alone. I was too, after I had canceled
my trip to Hodgenville. And the bag lady accosted me on the street. I was
half-rude, half-reverent, knowing my duty -- she was mad & dangerous
-- hence my dilemma. I withheld my youthful scorn -- no teeth or logic
had she. She delayed my getting into the bar. I directed her to her mad
destination, lord forgive me if I was inhospitable (sin of Sodom). My Nordic
must have left very soon after I arrived. My dad's car was out & I
had used Linda's after midnight. I will go there as long as it takes to
meet him.// Re: Looking back over my journal I find no mention of Nordic.
He may be in the last entry for the prior volume. His presence a powerful
musk to me. The most powerful since my cadet -- who cd. purge me on to
forgetfulness? He is as KH pointed out, a frequenter, an honorable one
allright. Didn't I write of it? Standing, talking to my two women friends.
Telling them of my crush; they pointed directly to him & his eyes met
mine. He likes me I thought but had a date. Man alive, cd. he dance! I'm
dying of recognition.// Of the bastard journal, of the bag lady, and of
inhospitality.// It's natural to feel confused and scattered at this point.
Revel in every show of beauty in action: do not dare turn your back on
agony, on suffering. The meek haven't inherited the Earth, that makes you
humble. Respond more earnestly to that toothless face. Respond less earnestly
to the thirst of inner voice: What was it saying? How hopeless and millions
of agonized lives! No, not millions, here is just one for the easing. How
superfluous pleasure can seem in light of one despicable old bag woman
in your face at midnight. "Where's Preston and Oak?" "Where's 5th and Jefferson?"
"Do you mind if I walk with you?" "Do you mind if I walk with you?" I could
hear that forever. Yes, I said, you can, and saw that horrid face turn
hurt. "I'm going home, Preston and Oak, you know -- Harlan County." Because
I'd seen a TV show once where a young man such as myself had felt same
sympathies and was hatcheted in the back as a result? Because my too pretty
self was too pretty to care? If I were Catholic.. or, hey, ..I am confessing
always after all. I am confessing -- lack of compassion at the crucial
edge of midnight. But what I wd. have done if I'd thought of it...I cannot
as Jesus heal her ill mind. I cannot see that it will help to give her
money. Only time and love, a moment of kindness. say 'Hello in There?'
(John Prine). So small a thing? And yet, it was only a brief moment in
her mad life. She may have no strong memory of it -- but feels pain instantaneously.
To be rid of her the way I was is a sin pure and simple. // What are the
alternatives, as John brother might ask. To go and see Mozart? The bad
lady still walks / sinned over, she was not mine, sinned over, she was
not./ But I want to go find my Nordic. But I will be left with nothing.
Then so be it: and whoever I love, be it for minutes alone, whoever I will
love I will give to fully or not at all. I will ask myself: will you give
fully of self? Will you? I will ask that alone and be faithful alone to
that. Would you wear the ring of Opal before them all? Regardless of consequence?
Each moment face up, if then so, go to sleep. And each moment, face up,
then sleep. //
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