March 17, 2001

�� � they�***� shone� ***� like ***� so *** many *** brave *** and ***� weary *** heroes.. *** forever..

The current mood of gwensarah@aol.com at www.imood.com


On fire since..
2002-02-27, 8:43 p.m.

"I loved you there and then, I loved you there and then and I have been on fire since..on fire since..on fire since."-Trembling Blue Stars

Words can destroy you, can take away equilibrium until there is nothing left. A shadow, a empty wraith craving only sleep and a end to the words that have become daggers in your soul.
Words can amaze you, leaving you stunned in awe for hours. Never knowing that you could be moved to that degree.
Words can be simple, yet powerful. Causing the tears to flow freely, not from sadness or grief..but from beauty.
"I missed you" he said..hastily and almost shyly written at the bottom of an email filled with small events from an hour or so in his life. It didn't matter that we had spent all day in various stages of the sort of intense email tag normally reserved only for heads of war councils. That an hour before I had emailed a quick "enjoy your lunch, I will be back soon"..

"I missed you" he said
Silly that it could touch me so, give a moment of "whoa, someone notices my absence", make me smile like a school girl in the middle of her first crush.."he passed me in the hall and smiled, gahh I almost died!!"
Shhh, and truth be told..I missed him too.

It's been a rough few days, last night mostly. I opened the box D. sent and spent my night playing my final game of "Riddles Embedded in Song". For years D. and I made a ritual of it..making first mixed tapes then beginning our "high tech" forays into mixed CDs..once a week we would send a compilation of various songs to each other containing a message. Some were easy, once he sent me a mix of nothing but songs about birthdays. One I sent was a fear theme, and no one would have figured it out unless they knew of my fear of monkeys (Chameleons-Monkeyland) or his fear of heights (the Damned-Tightrope). As we got older and our collections insanely huge, the riddles got harder..

I am left with three to solve now. One I could have composed myself, and if I had gotten it sooner I would have known beyond a shadow of a doubt that something was profoundly wrong..as it is, I was left broken and heartsick merely reading the playlist.
It didn't begin to prepare me for reading his journals..I had to face alot of my own past in those words.

There are things that are in my past that I will never reveal in a public journal, not when there are those I know reading who have not even an inkling..also because I try to never remember those things. For some reason D. had scribed some of those things down, actually I know why..so he wouldn't forget and risk saying or doing something that might dredge up memories. Knowing didn't make it easier to face..my own journals are conspicuously absent of those things, for many reasons.

I miss him already, tomorrow I shall miss him even more for its Weekly Tape Day. There are moments I forget and begin to reach for the phone or begin an email..there are moments that I think "Oh D. will laugh and laugh when I tell him about this one" then remember D. will never laugh again. He will never again sit up listening to Trembling Blue Stars with me over a crackling phone connection, he will never again cry at old movies, he will never again love or lose or hate or feel wonder.

I will never hear the sound of his voice, feel his bone crushing hugs at each visit, roll my eyes at his smart ass remarks, listen to him read old poems to me when I am down, I will never see him marry, never secretly arrange a marriage between Rymer and the daughter he might have had..

Stolen kisses at a train station, drunk and silly..late night talks at the cliffs.. a shared bottle of wine and a pack of cigarrettes on the roof of the old high school..Summer drives singing Harvey Williams and Led Zeppelin at the top of our lungs earning the amusement of even the CHP..falling asleep cramming for the AP English exam...composing epitaths of bad puns and rhyme..Monty Python Nights...clinging to each other struggling not to cry as the bells were rung out that fateful day when we lost one of our own...what was to be our last phone conversation "Fret not Gwenny-rah..all men are silly creatures, I'll go to London and pound him for you if it would make you smile" "Goodnight dear boy, slayer of Vorpal Bunnies, defender of the great mocha machine..try not to break any hearts this week and shag well and often"

Yes, goodnight dear friend.
I hope there is music where you now are, I hope you are at peace, I hope I can find the courage to muddle on without you.

Listening: "Smoke and Steam"-Trembling Blue Stars

Reading: D's journals 'November 1998-March 1999'

Daily Glimpse: Lights on a Darkening Shore..

Watched the lights come up over Central London

� starlight ** sunlight �

� Copyright 1997-2002 Gwensarah MacFarlane.
Everytime you steal my stuff, a tree burns down somewhere...only you can prevent forest fires.

With an host of furious fancies.. whereof I am commander, with a burning spear and a horse of air...to the wilderness I wander. By a knight of ghosts and shadows...
I summoned am to tourney... Ten leagues beyond the wild world's end, Methinks it is no journey....