Out of range

Out of range of pain and hurt and crushing blows. Out of range of emotion. Out of range of all the thoughts and crazy spontaneity. That is where I've chosen to put those things that complicate. Here, now, I feel rotten for it. I feel selfish and egotistical. Now, after strained half-conversations i want to take myself outside and kick my ass. Is this actually better?

Life is moving much quicker now. Those things I thought were out of range for me are suddenly more in focus. I can almost tell what they're saying sometimes, almost feel their presence. They are opportunity. They are stability. They're not here, but I think I can see them coming. The horizon is dark with the shadows of approaching possibility.

I find myself on my pendulum again. I find myself, one moment content, the next fickle. I dance over happy and depressed like it's a career to retire from with a pension. I go to funerals and then meet amazing people. I have a wonderful weekend, get calls about opportunities, and have one half-conversation and feel like shit. I swing and swing and never really enjoy the ride, only those moments when the pendulum has reached it's furthest point and hangs for a moment, suspended and subtley stationary do i feel no pressure of the inevitable that I cannot explain.

I am out of range. Tonight, even in the context of a mundane and fun evening, the pendulum has reminded me. Reminded me that even when things are ok, nothing is accomplished or finished or "ok" yet. I still have my life to fight for. I still have my dreams to save from crashing.

baby I love you
that's why I'm leaving
there's no talking to you
and there's no pleasing you
and I care enough
that I'm mad
that half the world don't even know
what they could have had
---Ani Difranco