So I went to a party tonight. Go figure, huh? I do not do this thing they call social life. But it was a thing for May Day with some people from work, who are really my only friends here in town, and I'd nothing else to do, so I figured I'd shake up the ol' routine a bit. The place where the host lives is really attractive--not expensive by any means, but architecturally pleasing... I wanted it for my own. They were having a May pole, which made me ecstatic, since I haven't had the privilege of that particular fertility ceremony since I was a wee mite. Good thing I was there too--no one else knew how to do it. We kind of screwed it up at the beginning, you know, with the dancing and the weaving and the everybody being a bit drunk except, I guess, me; but by the time we got about halfway down the pole we really got it, and it ended up working out great, the braid of the ribbon so tight you couldn't even see the pole anymore. Really satisfying and fun. Should do that more often. Or things like that, you know. By which I mean cooperative constructive project things, not... um... pole-dancing.
Then I hung out for a bit, not knowing too many people. Had lots of free food, rock on. And then another friend from work had brought her Tarot cards with her, so I let her do a reading on me. Let me set one thing straight right here: I don't believe they predict the future. I'm a rabid atheist, and I don't believe anything can predict the future with any degree of accuracy. What I do believe Tarot cards do is provide a random process to aide the subconscious mind in bringing forth things it noticed. The subconscious picks up on patterns and little things that the conscious doesn't notice, and by bringing those out, one can often tell more about a given situation or possibly anticipate a certain outcome with some success based on probability. So my interest in Tarot is strictly in that sense.
Given that, it was interesting. Her cards were really beautiful. I heard pretty much what I expected to hear, which, hell, is par for the course as far as Tarot goes--you rarely hear anything that really surprises you. My mind is just really full right now--it's fucking hard to think. School is one thing, but it's really only one among many things clogging my cerebrum right now. My book and other creative endeavours are possessing me, which normally would be a good thing, but it's been a long time working very intensely on it, so it's a little foggy itself. Some other ideas... whirling around in there. My continuing, unpredictable, evolving story with his esteemed mysteriousness Mr. Janus Anfini... my angel project, stalled for so long but still in the back of my head... certain ideas of more esoteric import... my point is, it's fucking noisy upstairs. What I need is a hell of a break. I need to go to Mexico. Katrina, get yo punk ass back here so we can go lay on the beach.
So as is my wont when overclocking my brain, I recited to myself while watching the antics of the drunken people a short, cyclical story I memorized from Clive Barker. Some may be familiar with Nisi Nirvana. For those who are not, I present it here in its entirety:
There once was a woman named Nisi Nirvana, who went into a city full of iniquities, where no ghost was holy and no flesh was whole. Someone there did a great hurt to her, a hurt only a man can do to a woman. She escaped him, and returned to her own city, and she knew that she must make a good thing out of this bad thing that had come upon her. So she made a perfect little child. And she loved him so much that in a little time he grew, and on the day that she knew he would be leaving her, she called him to her, and she said to him, "I'm going to tell you a story, and I want you to remember, child. There once was a woman named Nisi Nirvana, who went into a city full of iniquities, where no ghost was holy and no flesh was whole. Someone there..."
And so forth. This story never ends, it just spirals inward. The key to breaking it open lies in the woman's name, Nisi Nirvana, but in most cases I don't want to break it open. The cycle, reciting it perfectly in my head or under my breath, over and over, is a kind of a mantra for me, cooling my brain, forcing it to concentrate on one repetitive process and let go of the more complicated things it's running itself ragged on. It helped tonight. The party ended up being a satisfactory experience, inasmuch as such events are interesting to me, which is to a very limited extent. I'm afraid social stimulation is an area in which my predilictions are fairly specialized, and over-stimulation makes me intimidated and frozen. I'm pretty damn shy, actually, when confronted with large groups of unfamiliar people. So extracting pleasure from such an encounter is a process that actually requires work, mental effort, for which I have the patience and strength... only once in a while. I think I'm good on my partying for the next few months or so.
Oh look, it's after midnight, and right on time the Vocabulary Apoplexy kicks in. I'ma go to bed before it gets worse. A good evening to you all, lords and ladies.
Labels: Brendon, Dreams, Introspection
posted by Rivaine # 12:17 AM 
