Puntos de Partida

Starting points.

I now have a small garden of cayenne and jalapeno plants in my kitchen, along with a couple calla lilies. That is, if they don't freeze or drown from the combination of the poor weather and my love of water, I will soon have a small garden in my kitchen. Despite that it's allegedly effeminate to enjoy cooking and the like, I have a very specific way I like to make my dishes and certain things I do to have fun with the process of cooking. In my mind, it's not just the food that you throw at the oven, it's the attitude you put into the food. I guess I really do buy into the saying that a meal made with love tastes better. Unfortunately, my tiny pepper menagerie has taken over the table.

So green pepper and mushroom pasta with lemon chicken in tow, I made my way to my desk. The supper table of millions more studious than I, it serves me well as a place to relax and enjoy something that I've at least somewhat created.

Clearing a spot for my plate, I also take time to open my messenger program for some dinner conversation before I get back to studying for my exam in the morning. There are two people on - Blisken and P-chan. I talk to Blis for a while, put my fork down, and have a good slouch as I let the food settle and my stomach feels full for a change. After a bit, I close my eyes and begin to fall asleep, kept minimally awake by the promise of a less-than-stellar test score should I let myself go under.

When I finally open my eyes again, I see P-chan's name. I look at it in the same expressionless way that I look at anything when I'm trying to observe something.

Okay, stupid. Think this through this time, I tell myself. Think of the why, the how, the consequences. Pros and cons, weigh them. This is a risk and an investment. Proceed with caution. Place hotel on Boardwalk. The harpoons, man them.

But really, there wasn't much to think about. No matter what logic tree you follow or what reasoning you try to put on it, it's just fucking retarded for two people who WANT to be happy together to INTENTIONALLY NOT be happy together. So I opened her little box, and said:

"Look cheesetits. You owe me five dollars. I don't know what kind of bullshit you're trying to pull, but I have the Blue Barracudas on my side, and your Silver Monkey ass ain't escapin the Hidden Temple til I gots muh monies. You might think you're going to smash some pots and grab some keys, but mark my words, the temple guards are going to find you and take your precious little pendants. Olmec and I be down, sucka."

God, that show was so awesome.

What I (sort of) really said, in short, was:

"I'm going to consider you heard from. If you have any objections to that....nigrplz."

She said some things. I said things back. Then she talked about things, and so on. It was only mildly awkward, due more to the fact we were talking about the platypus having the ability to sting and dirty shitstations, but it wasn't horrible, and sometimes that's better to aim for than fantastic.

It's a point of origin.

Blisken tells me that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over despite similar outcomes and expecting a different outcome. Maybe after six years, believing that I have at last achieved total sanity, I am mistaken yet. As strange of a positive side as it is, I can at least be glad that I was crushed and destroyed to the furthest extents possible. In this way, anything bad that happens now will simply be a muted replay.

Let there be no mistake, our interaction is on a "professional" premise. That's probably the most reassuring thing. In the past, I was required for the sake of my capacity to love and support. Now, she finally has those things. I am required only for my nature as a symbiotic soul.

Cliches inserted, it'd be something like:

"Hay u letz b frends"
"LOL OK"
"LOL ^_^"
"I MADE YOU A COOKIE BUT I EATED IT"
"T_T"
";_;"

I told her I hope that this time, I don't have to wait a year before I talk to her again. She jokingly said that there was a merit to suspense.

Pathetically, I know that even if it was another year, I'd wait it out with perfect memory and undiminished affectation, coming back like a puppy when I was called. But, hell, I waited upward of three years to talk to my brother, about seven for my father. A year would be nothing to me, that's just the kind of person I am.

Patience is supposed to be a virtue, but it might be nice now and then to spend less of my life waiting.

I started out hoping to not write a single word about P-chan. She'll probably come here, and it shouldn't feel like I'm looking at what's going on under a microscope. Really, I'm just winging it. But, describing what was going on to Blisken, I said, "I started journaling six years ago. The first entry I wrote was about her. My most recent entry is also about her."

"Oh, wow," he said.

He pretty much summed it up. You focus on what's important to you, and despite how guilty I feel for a lot of the things that I've said and even certain things I've only implied, that fact that I'm still at topic number one should be proof enough to me for making myself understand that we've both done our fair shares of atonement.

Schatze once had a dream that I published a book of my life, written in red ink, but that despite our two years together and extended friendship, she couldn't find herself anywhere in the pages. It was obvious what the dream meant, and it's saddening to know that it's coming true. As I tried to tell her, though, I've gotten into the habit of only writing when bad things happen to me. She was always so good to me that there was simply never anything to say.

If Alpha was the wrecking ball that brought me down, Schatze was the foundation that I was able to rebuild on. P-chan is one of my four cornerstones, opposite my brothers, my passions, and the iron will that I was blessed and cursed with. I know if they could speak to one another, Panda-chan would be able to reassure Schatze that I haven't forgotten a single moment of her selflessness. If it's true that there is a great woman behind every great (or mediocre but ambitious, as my case might be) man, then I'll always have to claim at least two. They are the complete opposites on the scale that balances me, and for a long time, I had neither of them.

Points of beginning, a place where a ladder meets the earth. I think it's time to pick up my things and start walking again. P-chan is a source of happiness, but I have much more work to do. Schatze, Cairo, Seta, Sola, so many bricks that comprise me, quickly becoming strangers. The last time I spoke with Cairo, it was in Latin. It's been so long.

I think I've descended into ramble, now.

This week has just served so well to remind me not only of what I had once lost, but of what I'm allowing myself to lose right now. This is a shitty world to be alone in, and I don't think I'd like to do it again.

Sometimes an artist starts out putting pencil to paper at a single point and forming a planned and tended line. Despite the best efforts, not all such drawings sell. Sometimes an artist jerks the top off of a can of paint and slings it at a giant canvas. Despite the fact that they shouldn't, some of these works sell for thousands.

After an all-nighter, I don't know if that makes as much sense as I'm hoping it does, but either way, I'm going to throw myself at the canvas.

Finally, I can picture my new life beginning in earnest.