History never repeats. That’s what my old CDs say. According to the internet, if I don’t remember my past, I’m doomed to repeat it. It also says that if I don’t send some imprisoned diplomat all my money, drunken dwarves in lederhosen will overpower him and make him sing cabaret. I dunno. It sounds like the internet lies, or maybe the diplomat should give in and sell tickets; he obviously could use the money.
Aldus Huxley didn’t need the money. He spoke about history too. He said, “Nothing changes, yet everything is completely different.” He also wrote the “Doors of Perception,” and “Brave New World,” Showing that mescaline and optimism don’t mix.
Divorce and happiness don’t mix either. I mean you can have both, just not at the same time. Try it. It doesn’t work. And yeah, I would argue that it doesn’t matter which side of the slamming door you’re on, there’s no party on either face, and if there is, it’s only a celebration for their new friend, denial.
No, divorce sucks all around. Sometimes it’s a necessary evil. Nobody deserves to continue with an adulterous or abusive spouse, and yet the decision to leave usually comes on slow deliberate cat feet. Yeah, it’s like the fog, that way. Or maybe it’s Smurfs. I always get those two confused. My point is: to make somebody part of your history is never easy.
Yesterday, I read through my old blogs. The original ones. I looked at the old pains and conversations that flicked from the tips of my fingers. I can’t believe I actually sifted through a box of pictures back then. Wow, there are internet sites dedicated to people who love that kind of pain with their history. They usually cost money though. My blog is always free, and you get to watch…
ANYWAY. I wondered. Is there any difference between going back to my old blogs, and going back through my old pictures then? Either way, aren’t I just prodding old pains? Wouldn’t that be like watching a “Dude Where’s My Car” marathon?
Try it; go back to my old blogs. Read them. See? Isn’t that painful? Would you do that twice? I mean it’s painful for you for different reasons (think “the guy who brought you the Strawberry Shortcake’s Beach Blanket Sharkfest—“Wow! He ate her like she was made of, Oh, that does explain why she bloated in the water,”--now brings you blogs of joy and happiness), but that kind of pain never changes, it’s just completely different.
So why would I do it? I guess it’s like running for the first time on an ankle you’ve sprained weeks ago: I did it to see if I could. I did it to see if I was healed. I did it to see if there were signs of history repeating.
See, I’m in a new relationship now. I don’t want history to repeat. Oh, I mean I’m totally ok with the falling in love part. That’s fine. But I just didn’t like the way the first story ended. I want to move on. If history repeats, then why bother? I read my old blogs; why would I want to feel like that again?
I read the old blogs to see if there were a clue, a reason, an answer.
There wasn’t.
The problem is, that blogs and history are all biased by perception. There will never be real answers unless I had them to begin with. If I had all the answers, I probably wouldn’t be divorced.
So does that mean I’m doomed to repeat? I don’t know. After two years of blogging, I still don’t have all the answers, but I’d rather face my future, than quiver in my past. Right now, in my present, I have a Pirate Queen. I wouldn’t trade that for any history. Whether it’s that of an anonymous blogger, or the never changing Aldus Huxley.
No comments:
Post a Comment