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{Dream-logic rarely succeeds.}Archive for December, 2008
Damn it All
I’ve been neglecting this journal. It’s entirely my own fault.
Aylin broke down and cried today for the first time in what seems like forever. She doesn’t know what to think anymore, so she comes to me for help, but I’ll be damned if I know what’s going on either.
I am not a hostage negotiator–I don’t even know who is holding who (or if any crime has been committed).
Perhaps this is not something I ought to be committing to print, but sorting things out in my head doesn’t seem to be working, and typing is easier than writing by hand.
Aylin seems so superficial, so preoccupied with her own petty amusements that all she radiates is a terrible emotional distance. She comes across as stupid because that is the wall which is easiest to maintain. She’s afraid of pain, so instead she’s chosen the life of the numb. But this was not always the case.
To hell with it, she loved him, Arjuna, too much for her own good. It ought to have been obvious from the beginning that he did not love her back, that perhaps he did not even like her, but I was not around then and love makes people stupid. I’ve come to terms with the fact that that’s all I’m really good for: objectivity.
He spurned her, twice. Each time she went running back, like a spaniel named Helena, and each time she was greeted with what seemed like open arms (but were really gaping jaws?). And then the shit hit the fan hard enough for Aylin to notice. She cowered and prodded for a while, and eventually gave up trying to get into Demetrius’ good graces (for Helena and Hermia are not friends in this tale).
All the while she loved, and mourned, and tried to forget. Then Helena found her own love and all should be well.
But it isn’t.
Demetrius won’t stop talking, and Helena can’t stop listening (though the words sear her ears) and wondering if he’s talking about her. He was always difficult to decipher, and even more so now that all context has been lost.
She’s started mourning again and helplessly scattering bits of herself about, and it it up to I, Hazael, to put her back together again.
I’m tempted just to go and beg for a sign from our petulant deity, Lord Arjuna. Something, anything, to set myself at ease…
What Comes in Dreams
I still miss my Arjuna. It’ weird and I know that I shouldn’t, but I do and I suppose my subconcious knows that better than even I.
I’m lying in my bed with no pants on (because it’s winter and cargo pants are uncomfortable to sleep in), and out of no where Arjuna shows up. He tells me that he’s getting married the next day at this resort where we’re both staying (how he managed to get into my room, and why it’s my dorm room, I have no idea), and he wanted to see me one more time, or something.
For no readily apparent reason he takes off his shirt and crawls into bed next to me. He tells me that he’s sorry, and that he hasn’t forgotten, but he’s a changed man now. I smile and turn around so that I’m facing him and extend a hand in a mock handshake. “Pleased to meet you,” I say, “I have no name.” I’m not sure if he gets this oblique reference to my more annoying activities involving him, but he says nothing, and we just lie there for a while.
There is a mosquito, and it bites Arjuna. I offer to open the window to see if it will fly out, but Arjuna gets out of the bed as I’m doing so and begins putting on his shirt (it’s light blue), saying that he needs to get going anyway. He wants Kitty and I to help him pick out movies for something, I’m not sure what.
The next thing I know, Arjuna is getting married to a skinny girl with clearly colored reddish/orange hair and goth make-up. She’s wearing a pair of grey dress pants, and keeps complaining that they make her look like she has no ass. It’s true, in fact, but I say nothing. At some point I recycle several soda cans.
After the wedding Sterling is back in his t-shirt and jeans, and desperately trying to evade having to look after his new wife’s twin toddler cousins. Kassi and I go looking for him. Just as we reach the bottom of a set of stairs, Sterling catches me around the waist and makes some self-righteous comment about how he hates children. I can’t help but wonder why he got married.
Then I wake up. Damn dorms.
