I dreamt of walking into a church, and helping arrange the pews, as a hateful sermon began behind me about how we are not called to love everyone, and I walked to the pulpit to contradict him. As I approached, I was overcome by first a white hot sensation of indignation, then the presence of God. I began speaking in my own voice, condemning his hypocrisy in anger, but then my body was gradually borrowed, and I levitated, rising up into the air, as Jesus spoke with more compassion and grace of loving all our brothers and sisters as one because we are a single spirit, and the icons became windows with living faces, radiant and alive, but I was too high against the ceiling when his spirit departed, and I had to break my fall against the shelves, where I was briefly stuck, my dress shredded and half decent. I went back to Anoakie’s house where I found Lindsay and a mermaid preparing for the parade in Olympia, and we cuddled some seals who had wandered in from the shore in bed. The church sent assassins to silence me, but I was dying anyway and didn’t care.
I’ve been thinking about Turing Patterns in personality, allowances, impedances, sibling differentiation theory vs. emulation. Ada Lovelace became who she was because of her father partly, the influence of his memory on her and her loved ones. Those of us with siblings become foils of them, and those of us with idols attempt to become them. How successful we are at each leaves us with ripples, valleys of what we are not, the shadows we avoid, ridges we have stretched ourselves toward, virtues we have attained.
I had an amazing conversation with Brenda this evening and I am still trying to answer several questions. When do I feel most myself? How do I ground myself in the world? What is worth staying here for? Do I believe it is possible to fall in love again and have it reciprocated? Do I believe people are capable of loving and understanding me? Does everything hurt so much I would rather not be here?
“Where did they go?”
“I do not know. Wherever magicians used to go, perhaps. Beyond the sky, on the other side of the rain.” – Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell
I am a screaming wall of grief.
Love is arranging the guitar to sing and play to you whilst holding you as you cry. ♡
“But if you stay… you will own your love. And some loves must have a defence.”
“Find me evidence for such love.”
“You are determined to tell me what I felt and thought. I wonder, am I necessary to this conversation, or are you to play both parts?”
“We are of a common mind. Tell me that you cannot imagine a life other than the one you have. With a man who sees you and accepts you, and will love you for all that you are.”
“Then you will save me from damnation.” “From death perhaps, but from that, I think you are hopeless.”