It is said there are only two answers, yes and no. The movie yes man was one of the great modern movies, because it correctly identified the power of yes for what it was. But more subtly it showed the importance of living in the moment. How was character compelled to live in the moment? By being compelled to say yes, life and death were no longer relevant to the inquiry.
This is not the same as realizing, completely realize how temporary we are, it is about life in the moment.
And that brings me to the corollary of the two answers. There are only two places to live. One was best described by Dr. Seuss as the waiting place. The other was the state I was in, terminal living. And the waiting place, is not living at all.
What is terminal living?
Terminal living living as if you are dying, living knowing you are going to die at any moment, the terminally ill, the soldier on patrol, the old and infirm. Someone who has lived for a time only to make money and then who loses it all. In such a place you can do what you like. you take on a power that only a complete ignorance of death and responsibility (youth) can replace.
You can stand up to disaster, watcher your wealth disappear through no fault of your own leaving you penniless but laughing at the disaster, you can be married but fuck to the woman you love.
Movies and books are about people who are terminal living. While they are desperate, the desperate are the lucky ones. They are living. It is nice to think about the couple who has ridden off into the sunset sitting quietly on a porch watching the same sun go down day after day; but the moment when they have everything at risk is the time they are living, that is the time we are interested in, that is the time they are completely aware in. Whatever the purpose of this world, the purpose of living lies in those moments of desperation.
Or does it? Because I wanted to stop the desperation, I wanted to sit with the girl and watch the sun rise and sun go down again.
But if you loved her why didn't you stay with her?
The old man lifted the drink with his hand which the regular assumed was not sneaking up the leg of the girl next to him. The drink reflected the light sparkling onto the face of the old man, glimpses of how old he really was under the shaggy hair. He drained the glass to dispel the light and held it out for a refill.
"That is the saddest part of this story." But he didn't answer the question, in the way he told the story, he just continued where he had left off. "We were both terminal living, we were living in the same space that all great action lovers lived, at least when we were together, in person or on the phone.
Unfortunately, terminal living, like all living is is ultimately followed by death, but not yet.
We made excuses then to talk. We saw each other more often. It was innocent on the surface, but underneath the surface we both longed for each other, we both completed each other in a way we didn't understand. We both needed someone who understood our problems, her the massive work load which distracted her from the rest of her life, me the economic disaster I faced. And whether we wanted it or not, with the time together and the increased proximity intimacy grew. We found ourselves alone more often. We kissed and petted each other, and now with less friendship and more passion. This followed a story which I told her, one which she knew, but which had largely been forgotten over the years. It lowered barriers, it gave us a primacy over everyone who kept us apart. We were exploring the bounds of friendship, but I had expressed my love with words. You see the pussy was not out of the bag yet, but the cat was.
No comments:
Post a Comment