Dec 23 1998
I have to apologize up front for this message because every word of which is dedicated to, and inspired by, something that is repugnate to both our natures ...... RESIDE. But I do assume that you will not hold this weakness and hypocrisy against me. I will also use a bit of profanity, I hope it does not offend. (I know it does not) I do this from time to time, usually for shock value, sometimes because the phrase just fits. (but you know that) If any of my assumptions are EVER wrong, please just tell me. I hope you know you can say ANYTHING, and if I do not sense a wry sarcastic smile, I will submit to your will.
I also have to preface this with a few other thoughts, I have taken quite a number of assumptions before I started down the path these words will take us. By no means do I want to imply that anything is taken for granite. For example I refer to the highly tattered and over used term "soul mate", whatever that is. Who knows what you want from your, or what your definition is of, "soul mate". I have my doubts about "soul mates" any more. To give the heart and soul to someone, trusting that they will treat it with the respect it deserves, let alone if there is compatibility or chemistry, is truly a high stakes crapshoot in the best of circumstances. A game I had grown weary of, I could go on, but I am making the assumption that you can read my thoughts and wont bog us down with minutia ....
Not to mention the side, surely you have a side....
...At any rate,.....
.....I am taking the leap of faith that you are my "soul mate" ...... I am not sure I have the choice.
The Leap of Faith
I realize this is shear lunacy. Odds are this will not work at all. Odds are we are both deluded fools. It is my believe that we are both highly unique individuals, unbelievably "similar in nature" .... alter-egos of some sort? I have found that "the odds" rarely apply to me, I defy them. I, in turn, am making the assumption they do not apply to us, we will defy them. Maybe this is the Gods playing a wonderfully hideous joke on us...... I for one do not care, I must know. I am convinced you are sincere. There were times, in the beginning, between the words and thoughts I felt from you, the connection and echo of my own thoughts seemed too strange to be true, to many coincidences, and by the letter of the word so vague. I thought surely someone must be f*#%ing with me. I conveyed my misgivings to you and you soothed me, and gave me more than expected. And then, somewhere along the line, I am sure I could pick out the exact moment, you can probably tell me, a thunderbolt exploded in my mind and I decided I was hearing the gospels from my obvious savior.
A savior whom I could love, worship, and #%!*. A savior whom would love, worship, and #%!* me.
Every word we wrote, another brick on the foundation. If my precarious assumptions alarm you, no problem, what was I thinking? I will cry and mope for who knows how long, and assume a far different resolve and get my life back.
After all, I realize:
To prey, is to talk to God.
To meditate, is to listen.
So, in the spirit of the moth trying to eat and breathe the flame, regardless of the obvious potential for massive burns.
I say to you Azling,
I have resided that you have profoundly affected me. I have resided to the fact that we simply must meet ..... in the flesh. One thing I know I have resided that I do not want the first time I hear the timber of your voice to be .....on the phone. I do not desire a live chat. I want the moment I see you, hear you...smell you....touch you, .....taste you, ..... to be one and the same. I suppose we could get together have a date and "see what happens". This seems to me the action of a common peasant.
Ponder it for a moment ......
The unique opportunity we have before us...... to be able to inspire the circumstances of how one meets ones "soul mate". I have resided to confound conformity and instill envy in the Gods. We already, as I write this, have a story book relationship, literally. In fact, really that is all we have and it is the type that inspires "fairy tales" and I think it should. I see no reason to believe that our meeting in the flesh should be any less legendary and poetic. I suppose what I am asking in a sentence or two is;
Resolved: If, this eve, I had the rare chance to write the story of the meeting of my "soul mate", how would that story read? If I had the chance to choose how I loose my virginity, what would that choice be?
Now I am not saying it could be, or should be, written out word for word. But I think one with the precious chance would be more than negligent if one did not, at the very least, set the stage. Get in the face of the fates. I am not sure whether it should be well thought out, or right here, right now, bar the circumstances. Whatever the case I think there should be room for both spontaneity and specificity. And whatever happens we will have an awesome story to tell. Besides the mindf*ck factor is there, now, forever, and always. A build up like that makes me want to take the time for more thought out suggestions, but that is all these are, suggestions, not choices. Mere budding larva nestled in a cocoon of thought. At this point I am out of words, I feel course and blunt, cold and alone, but I am sure the intent and inspirations of my muse has moments of validates. I need your help and guidance, from the other side of the coin.
a. the place.
On the top of a mountain.
I envision peering from behind the brush, watching you riding up a ski lift, right on time. As you snowboard to the edge of the run at the top of this precipice, I glide to your side and greet you with a ball of fire. Your gasping smile and widened eyes warm me, at least as much, as my flame warmed you. We kiss each other hello. Our first kiss, deep and passionate. Then as our lips part, without a word, plunge downward. Saving the pleasantries for later........ This can be almost anything, it is more attitude than anything else.
I contemplated others, even skydiving but it would be hard to
meet at the moment of the jump. Reading the previous suggestions were the seeds you
planted in my heart. Growing all these beautiful, thorny roses.
a.) the place.
On the top of the Sears tower.
b.) The circumstance.
A nice safe romantic "date". A few drinks at the bar, admire the view from on top of the world, enjoy the conversation & company, and let the night take us where she will. Perhaps start by reading our letters to each other, reveling in what we were trying to say to each other, touching on all the things we missed to say but still thought.
(Hiesenburgs Theory of the uncertainty principal comes to mind) This also can be anywhere, perhaps somewhere in your hood. It is my least favorite suggestions for the "first time". But perhaps the most prudent.)
a. the place.
Naked on a beach (or graveyard) or somewhere?
b. The circumstance.
The quint essential leap of faith with reckless abandon on both our parts, but if we are truly "soul mates" and destined to be together, quite natural and romantic. And still a leap to tempt the fates. I see one of two philosophies, the first more sensual than sexual. A door opens and a naked form stands in the alcove bearing his soul, peering into the naked soul of his fate, a small infinity passes. Suddenly he grabs her and presses her body against his. As she returns his embrace, he holds her face and kisses her long and hard. Kissing, touching, talking, looking, perhaps a diner. But it would be assumed consummation would not take place this night or we can let Lenore and Arch greet each other and agree to take our cue from them, nervously leaving our fate in the hands of the Vermin Gods. Life, love, death.
The second is more daring.
Two forms meet in a graveyard (where ever) wearing black hooded robes, the loud crack of a bow whip breaks the heavy silence. As if by cue they drop their shrouds and glide into each others embrace, fall to the ground on a predetermined grave and, without ever having said a word to each other, make mad passionate love, or #%!* like beasts. I am not quite sure. (who am I kidding, both) The weather would be a factor here, but I do not care. Plus, in this day and age, this would be a leap of faith, indeed.
a brief encounter.
An emotionally safe but exhilarating muse that can still be followed by (or influenced by) any of the previous (or any other) "official meetings" (in fact we can try to do everything) Grant Park, lower Wacker, the subway, any place in your hood. The place is importantly incidental. Let me expound, I see a rave bar, the kind that is packed to the point of bursting, let us say a bar I was in but one time, "The Crow Bar" at midnight. Music pounding, lights flashing, our eyes meet each others from across the room. We glide to each other and melt into each others embrace. We slow dance amid the ocean of sweaty bodys flailing and pressing against us. Kissing, grinding, and chewing on your neck. After a designated amount of time. Perhaps a silent drink, perhaps a brief back rub against the bar, a few whispers, then if we can......part. The date and time I do not know. (how about tomorrow) The only two that jump to mind are Midnight December 31, 1999 ( perhaps to soon) and Midnight on the last day of the millennia 1999. (an awesome concept, but I simply could not wait this long)
My Prudence muse tells me I should, this moment, take a step back and take a deep breath, do not send this E-mail, it is not finished, I need to edit things out, rewrite it all together, at least read it one more time, do not send this E-mail, take all the time I need to regain my sanity, as you say, if I really can at this point.
Passion muse says, NOW, NOW, NOW. SEND, SEND, SEND. Shut up, dear Prudence.
Writing this letter has driven me insane, (just to get to the point of framing the question alone, has aged me) as I am sure you know. For no sane mind would think these thoughts, let alone attempt to convey them and think another human accept them. I assure you, I have never written a letter like this, I am quite confident a letter like this has never been written
We have talked, because talking tells you things.
Like what you are really are thinking about.
But sometimes you cant find what youre feeling,
Until all the words run out.
Building expectations out of proportion?
More pressure on the situation than necessary....?
F*ck yeah. Wha cha think?
Im listenin for your scream.
Your serving master,
The perfect stranger,
Holding his breath for your response,