The Deeper the Depths

I went to see The Matrix Revolutions tonight at Grauman's Chinese Theater. I had only just watched the DVD of The Matrix Reloaded on Monday, so it seemed a small luxury not to have to wait to see how it ends. I have a lot of comments and criticisms, but I'm not in the mood to list them. I've been working for days, it seems, on one of those neverending projects. Fully fingering the weight of the creative void. Killing time in shirking mode. Avoiding the unavoidable. Procrastinating with a vengeance. And then getting dumped headlong into the mire of having to get it done in less time than it takes. I have made sleep precious. I have missed reruns of The West Wing on Bravo. I have buckled down.

I had intended to post a slideshow of my Halloween experiences. There is still some programming to finish. And here I sit, nearly a week hence. Resenting the silence and the forgetting that took place in it. I might have had mountainous things to utter. Instead, I groaned and struggled and strained my eyes and taxed my posture. I've got to get me one of those Aeron chairs. I was spoiled by one in my MP3.com days. And I've never really gotten over it. Nevertheless, the slideshow will one day come to pass. Or I will grow bored and disillusioned and just post photos. One way or another, the world will see the wig I wore.

In the shower this morning -- or maybe it was in that space just before I drifted off to sleep -- I had a phrase repeating in my imaginary mouth. Something about being jealously ambitious towards a scarce affection. It was vague and out of reach. But it sounds like me. I'm always measuring what isn't there. The way you make space for the sofa you are going to buy. I measure the void to be prepared when something comes along to fill it. At least I will know how much will fit. In a way, perhaps this is my own cautious optimism. I suppose you have to believe in the possibility of fulfillment to always be taking stock of the need for it.

It's been good and chilly. I've had to use the heat. It makes my home smell a certain way. It creates reiminiscences. I am always being shadowed by persistent ghosts. But never moreso than in the early part of winter. Maybe it's something about the way the light changes. You can see them better. Their edges linger. I haven't lit a fire in the hearth yet this season, but I know to expect a flood of recollection to consume me when I do.

I just signed a new lease. It is both reassuring and unsettling to know I will be here for a while. I know better than to count on things. But it has been so very costly living in limbo for this past year. Two years maybe. Three even. Long enough.