it is OVER...I can't go ON..there is NO REASON to LIVE...
so I can get on to next.
I keep thinking about the PhD dream with Alan helping me...the dream ends, he's standing on a corner across the road-- I say to him -- You belong to me now. Come on.
Which put me in a viscious, evil black dark beyond Gothic funk.
I really don't believe in life after death which puts me at a disadvantage for the "better place" thought.
You belong to me now. Come on.
When Alan left for the Keys, I more or less started trying to build something for him to come back to, even if just as friends. We worked that well together sometimes. This was a burning and ultimately profitable state of mind. When Alan died, I switched that to creating something in his memory--even it was me. Which was a more burning and even more profitable state of being. More than once I stood in front of the mirror, 3 foot long dread in one hand and scissors in the other. Because, of all things Alan created, my dreads are one of his living arts. And almost weekly I'll find myself backed into a corner with someone's hands in my hair asking me WHY..HOW..WHEN...WHAT and so on.
Which sort of functioned to make me feel like the created thing--which isn't a good place. Nor particularly accurate. Because I've got some history that brought me to this place and I've got time ahead of me. My time has not stopped.
In deciding not to live...essentially in giving up his life, he's given over the power of people or person to define him. Tell his story. Become someone else's legend or myth. Or funny drinking story. Whatever.
I wonder if this is the message my subconscious is trying to deliver. However, honest, I wish it wouldn't because it only functioned to distress me. Unless, it wanted my sole attention that badly.
And in all of that...the PhD thing. In all my goals, this is about the only thing I haven't done. I keep getting wishy washy on it. I wanted a PhD in Literature...sometimes Theology..occasionally I want to go to law school. I've thought on Educational Tech more as it is somewhat sensible.
Probably the most crushing remark that is with me from Alan is the thing he said sometimes daily. That we'd grow old and be dreadheaded artists together.
My desire for dreads predate Alan. But that statement was new in my little world.
But the PhD desire predated it all to almost 5 years old staring at these ants in the grass. Face down, lying on my stomach in the back yard of the family house.
So, I wonder why these two things cross in my brain's endless working at this point in time. The TikiMan and my thinking about ants.





