OK ... I sent out a post last night, about a half hour before L.J. evaporated, with the following poem. It never showed up in my jounral, despite checking repeatedly ... then L.J. went "poof" into the white "oops, we're working on it" screens. I'm assuming that my original post has gone bye-bye, although I guess it could be cached somewhere and might re-appear. I see my Friends list has not updated since last night, so maybe nothing new is getting on ... maybe this will slide off into the aether too.
I felt like crap last night, and I feel like crap today. Part of this is due to Chicago doing a damn good imitation of Merida, with humidity better suited to the jungle around Coba than the prairie. Part of it is due to all the different crap pushing in on me. I just wish I could make all the bad shit (the job search, the desperate lack of funds, the toilet that
Eschaton is swirling in, all the half-finished projects, etc.) go away and focus on building the
Unicity business. The stuff coming out of the convention was so exciting, that I'd LOVE to be doing that full-time, but to get to that point I need to build things up, and to be ABLE to build things up, I need to have all the other crap leave me the fuck alone! (sigh) I'm feeling emotionally again like I'm curled up in the back corner of a cage where insane sadistic freaks poke at me with sticks.
AN ALTERED VECTOR
all these extremes
churn in one place
yet across location
and spanning time
we can only vaguely
construct a common frame
to hold perception
and distill meaning
so much change
in such short runs
tainted with sickness
twisted by rage
yet filled with hope
and enthusiasm so rare
as to nearly seed belief
that things might turn
other intents
seem to fade
but they're not gone
only lost to time
drifted down
in hours' limits
unable to contain
all that we would need
now we battle
to reach the light
the forces of death
rush at us here
somehow sensing
we've found the exit
a break within
the crushing wall
all around us
they form the chorus
negating everything
we would hold true
if we escape here
we will destroy them
breaking free of chain
reforged to strike again
- Brendan Tripp
08/06/2001
Copyright © 2001 by Brendan Tripp
