Monday, June 01, 2009

“Whosoever is delighted in solitude is either a wild beast or a god”.

It didn't take much time, really, for the forgetting. I guess if you are only present in memory then that's where you remain. I had been gone for about 5 years and upon returning I found that it was only me who held grand fantasies and homecoming wishes. I thought it would be like it used to be and it wasn't. I mean, I am not a fool and I knew that there would be a shift, things had gone and things had stayed the same; and that was fine with me. I guess I just didn't understand how far removed I had become.
I had begun to liken it to a footprint in the sand. Although at first the sand clearly misses the foot, as the shape holds and waits to be filled by that same foot in that same print, after a few waves, man, that shit is gone; as though it had never existed at all.
I guess I feel like that now, and today, even. I have received a few emails asking me, "When did you get back to Canada?", or "Where in the world are you now?".
I have been home for about a year and it still feels like I ought to be a million miles away again. My mother and father and sisters, far away and consumed with life, have gotten used to it; I am always away, I guess, and I reap what I sow.
When I was 19 I left for the first time, going to Europe and the Middle East and North Africa for kicks. I have not stopped since then, moving, that is. Not just moving through life but also moving through phases of me, this man. Geography has always played a heavy part, and I have grown and changed out of sight from my friends and family. They get incremental views; only.
One year I am with so-and-so doing such-and-such, when we meet again, 5 years later, that has all changed. I am o.k. with it but it seems to fuck with the heads of those whom I love.
And sometimes it fucks with me, too.
Today, though, I am on top of it all and even planning a visit to Edmonton.
I want them to remember me, to know that I am home and it's time for trouble.
I know I leave often and to those with anchored lives I am hard to track.
But I am here, I am your bluebird, I am waiting for the phone to ring and for Christ to climb down and tell us to save the lumber.
Yeah, like Ferlinghetti said, "I am awaiting a rebirth of wonder".

-Love Sid

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