i like my world cos it's mine

[ontology]

I've had an odd sort of day. Work was promoted from being merely a usual, somewhat dull workday to frustrating beyond the telling of it, when my drawer came up forty dollars short -- and this was after my replacement was terribly late. The supervisor who came to try to sort out my problem: every time she did the math again, the drawer got shorter. It was awful. Then I went into the back room to fetch my things (by this time I was ravenous, having been hungry since four), and the topmost locker fell on my head. This hurt, to be sure, but was mostly really upsetting. It was one of those ridiculous Things That Only Ever Happen To Me, such as tearing great holes in one's trousers by getting them caught on doorknobs, or -- well, colliding chin-first with a metal pole on one's first day of work, for example. Also I couldn't borrow a book because the people who are authorised to process such things were not in.

But -- have you ever had that feeling -- which is less of a feeling and more of a tasting or a hearing or a not-seeing -- that there is another world hovering just on the edge of this one? Or not the edge, as such -- behind the ever-fluttering curtain of this one. My head was full of it today. I don't know why: usually I get this sort of thing when I find myself in a very strange and beautiful place; woods, or a cathedral, or up on the hill behind my old house with a candle. There wasn't anything about me that seemed to be a link to some otherness. It was only there, catching at my thoughts. The curtain never parted -- I haven't had the flash in months, if not a full year -- but I could sense that there was a curtain.

I am going upstairs soon, and lighting up the candelabra, and lying on the bed with music.

(And: Moony seems to be back in working order -- it's a long story, and I don't even know how it worked out in the end, but I am very glad to have him back -- which means that The Mix is back in progress. It's really mostly finished; I just have to sort it out, and make cover art. Hurrah hurrah.)

Comments

[spockodile.livejournal.com]

I can't help but feel that the "odd ways in which I am injured" tag deserves many more entries.

[lady-moriel.livejournal.com]

I second the motion.

[faeriemaiden.livejournal.com]

I was actually looking to see if I had that tag already and ... somehow I didn't. I need to re-tag some entries. :p

[spockodile.livejournal.com]

You really should. You know, your many blogs and things are great fodder for charts. I haven't even made any yet. Can you believe it? I've had pretty nifty ideas for about three different analyses, but they have yet to be represented graphically.

[bornofstars.livejournal.com]

Eeee, I can't wait to hear this mix. (I actually get to listen to it without having to wait, because I get out of school for the holidays tomorrow.)

[barefoottomboy.livejournal.com]

tearing great holes in one's trousers by getting them caught on doorknobs

I have lost many a pocket and/or beltloop to this phenomenon, sad to say.

Hope the curtain parts soon!

[faeriemaiden.livejournal.com]

Oh good, it is always comforting to know that I am not the only terminally clumsy person on this earth. :p

By the way, I keep forgetting to mention -- your package came the other day! So now I am hiding a present from myself in my own closet (where I will never, ever think to look!). And eee, the wonderlust button is so absolutely perfect, I squeaked a little when I saw it. :D

[barefoottomboy.livejournal.com]

I also have semi-permanent bruises on my legs from walking into my bed in the dark. I mean, my bed: it's not like a) it moves around, or b) I don't know it's there. *shakes head*

Oh hooray! I'm so glad it made it safely and in time! Yup, I saw the big WONDERLUST banner on the outside of the art gallery, and my immediate thought was MUST TAKE PHOTOGRAPH FOR JO - and then they turned out to have badges! And, for some reason, temporary tattoo transfers. I though you'd prefer a badge. ;-)

[cherise.livejournal.com]

I refuse to believe we're the only planet in the universe that has life. That's what I attribute it to, most of the time. How can we be it?

MIX. Miiiiixxxxxx. I am much too excited. :D

[wanderlight.livejournal.com]

But -- have you ever had that feeling -- which is less of a feeling and more of a tasting or a hearing or a not-seeing -- that there is another world hovering just on the edge of this one? Or not the edge, as such -- behind the ever-fluttering curtain of this one. My head was full of it today. I don't know why: usually I get this sort of thing when I find myself in a very strange and beautiful place; woods, or a cathedral, or up on the hill behind my old house with a candle. There wasn't anything about me that seemed to be a link to some otherness. It was only there, catching at my thoughts. The curtain never parted -- I haven't had the flash in months, if not a full year -- but I could sense that there was a curtain.

I apologise for quoting so much material, but, basically, yeah. Every word there is just right; I know what you're talking about. I haven't had the flash in months, either --
-- it kind of seems that the more entrenched in Real Life one becomes, as she tries to, you know, cope with it, adjust to it, the farther away the flash is. I'm not really sure what to do about that.
I am glad that the curtain is at least around the corner somewhere for you, though. ♥

[faeriemaiden.livejournal.com]

I think that there are several kinds of Real Life and not all of them are horrible. Someday I will have a Real Life that is not so very far from the semi-imaginary one. I keep realising how much I want to live more organically -- not far far away in a cabin somewhere, but more closely to the world, more -- real-ly, both in terms of how I interact with people and nature, and the sorts of things I spend my time with, and the sorts of -- things I possess? I'm getting tireder and tireder of capitalism what with working in it, and even though I want to spend most of the rest of my life in a city, I just ... want to get away from Buying And Selling and the great ugly sleek-sided world that hasn't got any magic in it. I think Madeleine L'Engle had it just about right, as usual. (If I can get a two hundred year old New Hampshire farm-house in which to spend my summers away from my big-city world, that would be exactly right. ^-^)