poetry in commotion...

Hi my name is Jason. This is not about my immense dissatisfaction with my job. This is not about how I was probably an asshole on Saturday night, but I don't really remember. This is not about a subject most of you don't care about.

This is about love.

Love is that intangible emotion that we all look for, somewhere in our lives. Love of money, love of women. Love of our jobs, and love of the times when we're not at our jobs. Love when its the blues, love when it's rock and roll. Love is the immense joy you get when you're with someone special, and the plummeting lows that we experience when we're not.

Love to me, seems like leasing a rental property. You can't possibly love everyone, but the ones that do, you lend them space in your heart. It's like a little home inside of you. Some take up a lot of room, some take up less than others. Its always a joy when someone new moves in, and always sad when someone moves out. I think thats what the huge hollowness in our hearts is, when someone especially important to us leaves. We feel the empty space inside, where they used to reside. And the time for our heals to hurt, we walk inside that huge space they left in our hearts every once in awhile, and see the little things they left behind, and cherish them. And we walk in and out, first day after day, then by week, then perhaps months, until one day we can take down those things they left behind, store them somewhere safe, and let someone new in.

Sometimes, the people we thought had left for good return, and in the place in your heart, the house of your soul, you find out that, well, they never really left at all. That the room was just as they'd left it, a little bit dustier perhaps, but still there. Or even worse, you've kept the room as they've left it, waiting for their return, and as a result a bunch of neat people wait outside, unable to come in. That's my house. I walk around this house I call my heart, and I notice several rooms that remain, waiting for that person to come back. I say I'm waiting for someone amazing to enter my life, but maybe I'm just waiting for the old ones to come back. Its stupid, and its embarassing, that I would hold a torch out in this cold night on the slim hope that I'll be walking on my lonesome in the rain, and I'll bump into someone from the past. But sometimes it happens. It's a premise that's been seen in the movies. You bump into someone that will leave an indelible mark on you, no matter the years, or distance. I don't want to hang around like some lovestruck fool, waiting. That's why I busy myself with books, movies, the companionship of great friends and family, the activities of my leisure. I'm really just trying not to recognise that in my moments of solitude, and inevitably, introspection, I'm just missing them like crazy.

posted by jaseypoo! @ 11:12 PM