Tuesday, November 3, 2009

schrodinger's cat is missing

Looking back on this weekend it appears my mind was in a closed box of memories I rarely peek into.



Last night while enjoying a glass of wine and counting the minutes down to bedtime my son said to me that all relationships are in our minds and I haven't been able to stop thinking about that statement. Recently people who I thought were dead came back to life and others who I thought were living were discovered to be actually dead. Of course many people could be in that hopeless group of the living dead, but I avoid them, not sticking my neck out to help them.

In that peculiar way you think about things that only matter when alcohol is involved I found myself grouping people into different relationship 'sets'.

After a few minutes I had only come up with the titles;

Those who want something from me.

Those who couldn't care less.

and I decided the whole exercise was quite pointless and put my pen away.


Halloween was this weekend and like I enjoy I let myself wander the past and found myself daydreaming about the holiday some ten years ago when I realized halfway through that I was parked in the wrong year. Nostalgia vertigo is a helpless feeling that I don't recommmend. What was I doing ten years ago for Halloween I wondered?

It's not something that stands out more than hanging out with friends and dancing, watching the sun rise and laughing. But the people who were there are no longer around and there's no who'll understand my reference about the overflowing toilet and the locked bathroom door anymore.

Why do some people show up only when they need something? Why does the phone ring funny in the middle of the night when it's bad news.

I go back further to that phone call in the middle of the night, the friend sobbing so hard he couldn't speak and laugh at myself for having the sense to put the receiver down by the stereo speaker and run to his apartment to check if he was all right. I'll only tell you that the episode ended with a bottle of champagne, a dwarf and a goat.


I guess that relationships are boundaries, rules by which we define things that cannot be bound. The successful ones are canvasses without edges and endless possibilities.


The next time you open a door it could be anyone standing there, for any number of reasons you choose.

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