Metadoor
June 03, 2003
There's been a bit too much writing about PurpleNumbers on this blog lately. That's part of why I made it, but I'd also like it to be something else. (0000Z0)
I've started digging in old papers, notebooks, files. In them I find bits of writing from times unknown that I'd like to save. Here's one. I think it is from sometime between 1997 and 1999. I had a notebook in which I would record thoughts. (0000Z1)
There are metaphors in lives. I see people everywhere, I see myself, believing that they are on the near side of a doorway into the good life. Noone knows what the good life really is, but the present is not it and god or whatever willing life will progress towards and through the door and then we can all kick back. (0000Z2)
I see this door. I get near to this door. And when I'm near to this door I see a great, gaping impassable abyss before it. And when I'm in love the abyss fills. (0000Z3)
(At this point you might be thiking some kind of "How romantic" thought. Let's hope not because you would be off base and I would have written the previous paragraph with the wrong tone.) (0000Z4)
Now, a few years later, I know some other things. I still think the abyss filling because of someone else is not right. If the abyss fills, what is there to cross? If there is nothing to cross, why go through the door? But if you stay there, are you going anywhere? (0000Z5)
I once imagined the place beyond the door as a separate place. Go there and there's no going back, everyone else is lost and only people through the door are with you now. But everyone has their own door, and once through they are still in the same place but themselves changed. (0000Z6)
So now, the abyss is there, even with love, and I stare at it and it stares back, and I look for bridges. (0000Z7)
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