Moving Through Madness or "Einstein on the Beach"

Thoughts two minutes into the first scene of Einstein on the Beach: "This is music to go mad by." The quasi-hypnotic reiterations which only reluctantly allow you up for air, pummel you, coax, and finally suck you under. It is at that moment, when you feel you can't possibly take it any longer that it releases you with a suddenness that makes you gasp. You find you've passed some invisible threshold which allows you to breath without panicking, without drowning in the seemingly directionless frenetic repetitions. It is suddenly possible to see past all this static to the larger ebb and flow of the music as it bears you along, always in motion developing in monumental increments.

Collision

Going over the Brooklyn Bridge, watching reflections collide in the window. Fast, ruthless, and inevitable as life. My life. Controlled chaos, hurtling forward -barely evading disaster- on tracks I'm no longer sure are of my own choosing. There are entirely new vistas opening on every side and I'm moving too quickly to be sure of the choices I'm making. There have been turning points recently that seem altogether inevitable and perfectly reckless, a force or momentum drawing me irresistibly forward, and in my helplessness there has been a kind of wild joy and vulnerability . I have never felt this vulnerable in my life, this susceptible. Soon there will be a split in these tracks and I'll find out if I have the nerve to relinquish my death-grip on control and learn what it means to risk a collision and emerge -still breathing- on the other side.

"Love is the most beautiful of dreams and the worst of nightmares."

They told me I'd fall someday and when I did fall finally, I'd fall hard and fast. They said you never forget your first love - you'll experience both joy like you never thought possible and despair that seems never ending. Sleepless, breathless, boundless, can't concentrate, can't stop thinking of you, feeling crazy, mad, obsessive, tormented. Addicted. Can't step back from this cliff despite the danger. I know I'm not your first love, most likely not your last - I can't have your past nor do I covet your future but for now, love me a little. I could almost be content with that....almost.

Under Construction

Caution tape and scaffolding. Soul under construction. Somewhere along the way something in me was damaged and I never noticed until you. You are ruthless, a bright light seeking out my weakness; I cannot bear your heat but crave it all the same. I thought I was strong until you touched me, walls I didn't know I'd built shattered like spun glass, melted like sugar. I am left naked, exposed and breathless, elated and devastated all at once. You demand so little which seems like everything to me. I don't know how to reveal my secrets, reveal myself, but somehow I know, without a doubt, that I will regret it the rest of my life if I don't learn. I'll lose you, lose myself. Utterly.

Do you know what you have done? What you are doing? Why choose me? What do you see in me? The same things I thought I knew about myself? Why am I suddenly so unsure? Suddenly feeling like I don't know myself at all and at the same time on the verge of discovering who I could become? I have never feared disappointing someone quite so much: I feel young and foolish, my experiences suddenly seem mundane when set next to yours. You both inspire and paralyze me. I feel as if I have always known you and will never know you. There are times when you look at me like I'm everything and times when your eyes go cold-suddenly a stranger- and I am nothing. Nothing except who I am, who I will always be, who I can yet become, regardless of whose eyes may look at me like I'm everything or nothing.

When I met you I said you were my catalyst. I did not realize at the time how true those words would prove to be. So go ahead, tear down the scaffolding, disregard the caution tape, reveal me to myself. My soul is under construction but I am strong enough to learn. Strong enough to grow.