The Flight of the Rocketman

On some dark night, consider this; beware --
your name may be on a menu somewhere.
-- Lines to a Missionary, Roddy Lumsden

You know? I've slowly begun reading the on-line journals of other people. Very slowly. I've decided, when I first started this thing, I don't know exactly what to call it, but when I first started writing here, I didn't want to read other people's stuff first so I could just go on and on without thinking I'm doing this wrong or something like that. If I read other people's on-line journal, all of a sudden, I might try to start writing like they do. I didn't want to be influenced in that way. I just wanted to write freely. As I have stated before, this is merely a place for my mental excretions. I have no literary ambitions here except maybe for a line somewhere that I can use for future work. But this is just merely an outlet for me to be heard. To tell anybody willing to listen that I'm here and I am thinking. Therefore, I am. I am a thinking person and I exist.

I am slowly making my mark, albeit in virtual space. One powerful black-out and it will be all over. But hey! It's a step, right?

And so I'm slowly beginning to read other people on-line journals now. I feel like I can without it affecting my writings here. So I read two journals written by old friends that I haven't heard from in a long while. That was great, in a strange way, it was like keeping touch.

And I am surprised that people have been reacting to this journal and I am surprised at the people who have told me that they were affected in some way by the things that I have written here. It really feels good to know that I am connecting. Some of these people I've never met or even heard of. And I've been told that the things I write here make them feel that they aren't alone or going through things alone; some one else feels the same way that they do. And of course, it goes vice versa as well. I know I'm not going through things alone. Some one else is feeling the same things I am feeling also. All of a sudden, the truth that I've always known is apparent to me. Everyone is one and the same. Everything is one and the same. It has been something I've always tried to show in my writing - the poems and some of the short stories I write. I'm always trying to prove that, in a world of metaphorical thinking, everything is one and the same. Everything is one.

It's that idea of magic. That it all exists unless you've proven it in your hearts that it doesn't exist. It's faith, really. And how strange, I'm not really a religious person, but I guess I've always been spiritual. And I found it through poetry, really. I guess that's why I love poetry so much, especially the ones with great symbols and metaphors - their objective correlatives. It's just so cool.

God! I'm rambling again... Actually, I think I'm babbling again. How foolish. I think I'm writing here like a child. I'm quite embarrassed but truth is, I'm very taken by this whole experience. This whole connection that is derived from reading someone else's on-line journal and from the reactions of people who have read mine. It's quite thrilling. I feel so vulnerable yet so free. I feel like someone has just stripped me naked in front of thousands of people and there is nothing wrong about being naked. And that feels good.

Funny, about nudity. I've always wanted to be have nude photos of myself. I just thought of it as some way to deal with all my physical insecurities, you know? The shots, to be worked on with the photographer, would be artistic. And though, I guess I wouldn't mind it being seen by others, it doesn't have to necessarily be so. It's really just for myself, to be completely naked and shot with a camera and to see those pictures. It must be such a powerful release. All of a sudden you have no choice but to deal with the way that you look when you see those pictures. You will completely understand the full extent of your sexuality; what you are capable of as a sexual individual. It must be amazing to pose under lights under the gaze of a cold lens and a sudden flash of light, knowing whatever you look now will be trapped forever in a two-dimensional sheet of paper. And that's it. Forever framed in a moment that will never go away; it can be hidden in an envelope or framed in glass for all to see at some exhibition.

True, in our world today, there's nothing new about nudity. Art has been a lame excuse for others to distribute their filth and their apparent usage of lust as a marketing tool. But, if done just for yourself, just for that moment, with someone you trust, those pictures can be a sort of liberation of all your physical insecurities. That, at one moment, you were naked and there were no judgements. No one praising you or laughing at you for whatever physicality that you've been blessed or cursed with. For that one moment, you are yourself as you were born, only older. I believe it must be a powerful thing.

And after all, there's really nothing we can do about our bodies. We can only do with what we have been given by our genes (and if you believe in it, by our creator, whoever he/she may be). And some wise ass might say, but we can work out and make our bodies look better. And yes, we can. But under whose standards do we follow when we say better? In truth, there is only our own. And that's all that matters.

One day, I'll have those shots taken. I'll hold that photograph of myself clothed in nothing more but shadows and light and I'll hear a window opening, and all my insecurities flying away like a murder of crows, off to find some other person to plague. And I will be alright.