day 1 of 24 - dawn.

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It's been about 11 hours now. She left here. And i felt the absence as i had before she had come, and as she was here. I have done this to myself. I have let her back in. I have done what she doesn't want, but what necessarily keeps me close to her, and her close to me.

In the journal of her mind, or the composition books of her world i imagine i am in some kind of place she labels 'brokenheartedness'. And in the spirit of every poem and hearts cry that deign names of her past lovers I find my lament and torment to share a parallel to her own; as though we are bonded this way - or perhaps more likely - that she shares her pain with me, by maintaining to me what 'they' deliver to her.

I go home today. It should have sunk in days ago. But it hasn't. Lost in my thoughts. Lost in my moments of self-warring. Lost in my worry from my life in Waco falling apart. Lost in my lust for alcohol and the joys and joyous man i like to be and once personified so naturally. Lost in my guilt for not wanting this day more. Why can't i want this day more? I see the want. I have known the want. I shall promise myself i shall move towards and embrace the want.

Two ideas that have been circling around in my head; Sex and its destructiveness, and a woman's heart. After a long period of separation i have been spottingly talking to paige again. I see the thoughtfulness and depth in her own examination of the human heart. I had long considered that in order for a person to stop their obsession of a love-interest that in some way they had to mentally change the nature of that love to some form of hatred or neutrality. Whether that looks like an association of the pain, or to some degree a change of the feeling of it to something far more platonic.

I think of alyse now. I think of emily now. I think of tonya now. And in some part, of megan also. In all their own ways lovely to me to some degree. I think of this because of what paige said. Paige contradicted my thoughts on the heart. I admire her volition to speak her mind. She believes that a woman never can end or change the love she has felt for a man previously. Only that she can seek to find a better love. A more full love. A matured love. THE love. I fear under examination of my own heart, and under the things i have seen and known that she is in fact right (at least closer than i). it makes me recall a poem I had written last valentines day. A valentine to my wife. My wife to be - someday. And how I wait for her. How I pain for her. how I sacrifice for her. How I plea for her to be patient.

Just the other day I was watching a show on discovery channel about human sexuality. Apparently the female clitoris has twice the nerve endings of the male penis. It's the highest concentration known to human anatomy; and for all intensive purposes potentially means that women are pleasured twice more than men, in the act. When one considers women are capable of multiple opportunities of climax, it seems quite exciting to this mere male mind, and admittedly i am envious. How more prolific a design or gift than what we have been given! Getting back on track, what I find most interesting about this documentary was the focus of how all of these sensations were related to the nervous system, and how all this in turn fed the mind. Furthermore, how all of this was interconnected to the process of arousal that starts hours before the actual sexual act. The anticipation, the foreplay, the chase of the night etc. etc.. All of this has a profound influence and meaning in the mind.

This state sounds close to utopia, contrasted to how great a man feels, seems so barely conceivable to fully know from this end. It sounds better than what any drug could fully deliver. It sounds like a most pleasing form of escape.

Paige made adamant one true point. Women don't truly want sex, so much as they truly and absolutely want love - the highest.

I stopped to consider this. In response, i said...Well, couldn't woman easily confuse and associate sex as meaning love?

"Exactly. It's tough".

Damn.


Women seem to base so much so paramountly on feeling. And then justify it as best they can. Maybe that's what gives men some kind of emotional advantage. We seem to be able to separate it more easily. Justify love more sensibly, though still vulnerable to the same sorts of mental association. Then there are cold hearts that are unbreakable in both groups. Ones so seeming ravaged by the love-hate in their hearts that they've become sociopathic in there pursuit of love or sex. So damaged, so hell-bent on seeking psycho-physiological pleasure in a moment, as though this were the only thing left high enough to feel good; though far from the love they once hoped or had in their heart.

I recall a recent conversation with a male friend of mine. A considerate christian minded fellow. A man who has come to objectify women. A man who had a sexual love affair with a beautiful looking woman. A woman who loved a collection of men in her young life, and had become so entrenched in the failure of self-conception and love that had moved so violently toward involvement in pornographic movies and rampant promiscuity, and eventually a heart so stoned that her love of this fellow had lost all meaning. Unfortunately for this man, a piece of his heart now belongs to her, and in his thoughts...manifested so
predominately by her physical appearance and his frequent sexual involvement with her. Essentially a good guy at heart, but has now given himself up to the very thing that hurt his lover, and in the end, himself. You see it in his deliberations. You see it in his eyes. You see the hatred of what he now is. You see the desperation and mental anguish that brings him to the brink of break down. You understand now why he wants to get drunk. You understand now why he pursue cheap sex. You understand his want to flee. You feel heartbroken with him. Fortunately, you see the desire for him to recover, get help, and leverage himself away from this; in beginnings there is hope.

I am human. And honestly, I feel like I could have fallen into this so easily. I have not known something personally like this so terrible, but i know the mechanisms from any other sort of pain, and their various particular volitions to perpetuate and victimise the self. Human strength seems so little in the scheme of things. But a pursuit of this seems so necessary too.

I fear i have not done these past few paragraphs justice. I hear another airplane fly over head (happens every 10 mins here), and I have felt now an emerging urgency in my spirit - perhaps its starting to sink in. I feel hurried. I promise myself that I will go back over these paragraphs and make my thoughts seem more understandable. But in truth, I probably won't. And in fear of losing these ideas for later review, I settle on my impetus to have gotten them down as thoroughly as I can in the interim - including the rest of this entry.

Jenny brought me up from Waco today. In good company the drive seemed very quick, and as i've grown to accustomed, she was an engaging and thoughtful participant. We shared our delight and seemingly obvious proof for God, and in our friends and relationships that seem so difficult, wonderful, and necessary. On particular noteworthiness was our shared struggle with regard to how we impart our love and desire, on to the people in our lives, the answers and wisdoms we have come to in our own lives that we know and believe to be and attempted gifted benefit to them. We both agreed that its so terribly hard to advise and step-in to counsel when dealing with those we loved, without coming off as being judgemental. Without coming off as being seemingly elevating, and consequently condescending. WIthout being hated, and reinforcing the very thing we're attempting to influence the person away from. It felt less lonely to know she felt a similar frustration and unresolved ability to reconsile an answer; and equally it felt somewhat dismaying to know she was dismayed by the same quandries. I respect her greatly. She will make some underseriving bastard lucky one day. But in hope and feeling, she will know the love of a good man one day.

My thoughts start to make a shift to my parents. Feelings of reservedness are beginning to melt into longing. I don't know quite how i'll react but my intuition believes it will be joyous and overwhealming. I have been less than spectacular to them as a son. I am not very good at long-distance relationships. A fault i endeavour to fix over time. I know they long for me, and that moves me - literally too of course. I want to be brilliantly focused on their company. I want to discuss long and lofty ideals, of politics, philosophy, religion, life, love, and humanity. I want to drink a beer too many with my dad, in which i never have; in a pub we never have. I want to connect, i want them to know, i want them to see, and i want
them to accept, embrace, and love. I am hopeful. My heart is ready. I think theirs is too. My sister will probably not see it this way. But i long to see her regardless. I have long become accustomed to not having them in my life. But i know there's a small hole in my heart by not having them around, and what makes that more prevelant has been keeping them at a distance this whole while. This will be good. This will be good.

I see that i've written now, far more than i expected. Far more than i'm comfortable with. I have never really made public my thoughts within travel journal...but in the past i have often felt my writings wasted on me who rarely dare to re-live reading these things. I feel myself more open than before to share some of these things. So, if it interests you, continue reading these entries and i hope you will find them thought provoking or perhaps entertaining (but hopefully not at my expense). And in moments like this when i'm tending to think of her, this process - i know - seems therapeutic.

My plane leaves in 7 hours. Its been a long day thus far. I have purposely deprived myself of sleep in order to enhance my chances of slumber on the flight. It's proved an effective remedy in the past. Sadly i conked out between 1-5am this morning. Funnily enough i have felt energized, partially due to the inspiration to journal these next 24 days (well, maybe not EVERY single one). But we shall see.

There are several things i want to achieve on this trip. My parents and family i've already explained. I really want to figure out what i want to do in this life. I already know how i want to live, but not neccarily what i should do. What gifts do i truly possess? What passions and convictions do i want to fight for? How is this compatiable to the Kingdom? Where do i start? Where do i live? What should i learn? I have vaugue ideas in mind. But i've been putting this off for awhile now. Distracted by other interpersonal issues, by relationships, by society, by work...by life. This is a step back. A step back from my life. This is what i've needed now, because i have seemed to lack the dicipline to do it in the 'thick' of life. Now i have no choice. I am ripped asunder. And perhaps this is where my true mawkishness of feeling comes from in regards to this trip. I have loved being where i was too much, even though it's been a stagnant affair.
I want to figure out how i feel about certain people. And what i should do about these situations. But primarily i believe i'm dealing with me. A re-alingment like a telescope that has been knocked about. (which we all know is a bloody useless thing!)

OK. i can feel the steam wearing thin. And i know i must go (the writing quality and depth is becoming woeful).

Know i will miss you all. whoever you are. reading this. We shall meet again.

Next time you read something from me, it'll be from 2 hemispheres away!

uroo,
douglas.

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