A pattern in the fractal

She checked the time on her phone. He should have been here by now. So she went back to waiting. It would have been sweet if he had shown up early, and she wasn’t the type to raise a ruckus if he was a few minutes late. This was definitely hovering over that line.

He might actually have a good excuse. Maybe a scooter splashed a puddle over him and he had to change. Maybe he was dropping that elderly aunt he told her about. Maybe a hyena had escaped from the zoo and had him trapped in a corner. Still, he should have at least sent her a text.

She flicked through the magazine again. Somehow Maxim didn't seem to hold her attention today. Served her right for arriving early, so eager and excited and stupid. To pass the time she tried to memorise the release dates of all the films PVR seemed intent on screening. June 29th, July 12th, August 3rd, which was also her birthday. Maybe he would surprise her and they would start going out and he would take her to see the film as a birthday treat.

She got her phone out again. No new messages. She told herself she would wait 2 more minutes before sending him one. The film was due to begin. That way she wouldn’t seem desperate or needy, only practical. “The movie is starting now, are you nearby?” She composed it, added his number, and when the two minutes were up sent it.

And then she waited two minutes. Not a problem, parking lots can be painful to type in.

Then five minutes went past. Well, she could miss the trailers.

Then another three minutes. She hoped there was a long credit sequence at the start.

How much longer would she need to wait before it looked pathetic?

20 minutes or so probably, though she knew she’d wait as long as 40.

A boy sat down beside her, and her heart soared.

It took three seconds before she realized that it wasn’t her date. Just someone that looked as bored and lonely as she did. He caught her looking, and flashed a tight smile. Then he went back to staring at the cinema entrance and glancing at his watch. It was curious to see him doing exactly what she was.

146 seconds passed. She counted each one, in hope that time would go slower and she might still see the film with her date.

When she got to 147 an enormous sigh let up besides her. She looked and again he caught her.

“You've been stood up too?” he asked glumly. She smiled wanly, a little glad to see that she wasn’t the only reject in the world. “Sucks” he said. “Yeah” she mumbled.

A silence followed this. He took one more look at his watch. Then he said “Which movie?”.

“Sorry?”

“Which movie were you going to see?”

“Oh, Finding Neverland”

“Ha, same”

He reached into his pocket and pulled something out. It looked like some paper, and he tried to iron them out with it in his hands “Did the smart thing and bought both tickets early” he said.

She gave him a sympathetic nod. At least she hadn’t gone that far she confessed.

“Yeah, sucks to be me too” he said.

He stared at his hands holding the tickets in front of him. Then he looked up.

“Do you…like the look of the film?” he asked.

“Well I thought the trailer held promise, and of course Johnny Depp’s in it”

“Of course. And let’s not forget Kate Winslet either”

“No,” she laughed. “I guess not”

He looked at the tickets some more. “Would you like one?” he said “I don’t want to let the world know I was stood up - sit alone next to an empty seat. And I don't think they'll give me a refund” He tried to give her a ticket.

“Oh, well let me buy it off you” she said, as she rummaged for her purse from her rather large handbag.

“It’s no big deal.”

“Then let me pay.”

“Girls shouldn’t have to” he muttered.

She smiled.

At least there was one gentleman in the world. And while he wasn’t handsome in the classical sense, he wasn’t particularly unattractive. Besides, she had been looking forward to the movie; A date for the film was insurance that she didn’t have to go in and sit alone. She made up her mind.

“At least let me buy the popcorn” she was still rummaging around her bag.

“You don’t have to sit next to me if you don’t want to.”

She looked up sharply, got up, took his hand and pulled him up as well. “Come on” she said “we’re missing the film, so get moving”

“Oh, ok fine. Let’s go”

So they did, and it was nice, and they did end up having fun after all. Except as they got out, the doorman shot the boy a wry smile and shook his head, but she soon forgot about that and its oddness. The film had been lovely and she was feeling so grateful towards the boy.

It was next week. The boy went to the cinema by himself again. He looked up at the listings and went up to the ticket counter. Behind it was the doorman. He smiled at his old friend.

“What films are out that couples will want to see today?”

The doorman rolled his eyes “The Pianist”

The boy bought 2 tickets. He sat down and waited, looking around for when a girl would show up, looking unhappy and alone.

Looking like they had been stood up for a date.

Spanning years and continents. Lives ruined. Bloodshed. Epic.

So long ago I don't remember when
That's when they say I lost my only friend
Well they said she died easy of a broken heart disease
As I listened through the cemetery trees

I seen the sun comin' up at the funeral at dawn
With the long broken arm of human law
Now it always seemed such a waste
She always had a pretty face
I wondered
Why she hung around this place

She said it's cold
It feels like Independence Day
And I can't break away from this parade
But there's got to be an opening
Somewhere here in front of me
Through this maze of ugliness and greed
I seen the sign up ahead
At the county line bridge
Sayin' all there's good and nothingness is dead
We'll run until she's out of breath
She ran until there's nothin' left
She hit the end
It's just her window ledge

This place is old
It feels just like a beat up truck
I turn the engine but the engine doesn't turn
what sounds of cheap old wine and cigarettes
This place is always such a mess
Sometimes I think I'd like to watch it burn
I'm so alone and I feel just like somebody else
Man I ain't changed, but I know I ain't the same
But somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams
I think her death it must be killin' me

- Wallflowers

Grey Wolves, Red Blood, Black Clothes, White Bones

The fever that threatened to ruin me yesterday hit me hard this morning. I am spending my money on comfort food and Halls. But it's raining. It's why I'm shivering, huddled outside the office trying to decide where to go to kill my time. Curious Hedonist is away working at a different office by now and our timetables don't match quite so well now. I have a page of a story that I'd planned to finish yesterday but I doodled characters from One-Piece instead but that's ok. I haven't written much lately. I have quite a few things rolling around my head but no drive to write them. I have been reading instead. Devouring pages of text on my little screen. There are so many books waiting to be read and I don't have enough time or money to get through them all.

My head's been in the clouds lately. I have not been thinking anything through. I think I prefer life that way. I enjoy trundling along and hoping for a surprise. I no longer want to make the first move, don't want to make any decision. I care, don't get me wrong. I always care. It's been a long, long time since I gave up caring and I like to think I've grown up a little. I can deal with things better. I am still floored when people see through me. When they say something, usually offhand, and it niggles away and makes me think far too much. I'm happy to an extent. I know what I'm lacking. I want somebody to curl up sleepy and cosy with and talk about anything and it doesn't matter. I want to fall asleep in somebody's arms and feel safe for once. There's only been a handful of times when I could make that claim.

But whether I want a relationship is debatable. I love being somebody's guy. I love that thrill when you tell somebody you're off to meet your girlfriend. I love the butterflies in my stomach when I walk down the road to meet her and I wonder what the day will be like. But I've been on my own for a while now (which was mostly self-inflicted so I can't complain too much) and sometimes I wonder if I can go through it all again. I need control. Maybe I'm just tired of declaring love. I mean at twenty seven what is love exactly? When you can't stop thinking about her, and she intrudes on all your thoughts and you just have to be near her? When you lie awake at nights and wonder what she's doing and if she's thinking of you and is it too late to call her? Why is that the women who consume me are always the ones I can't have? I try not to dwell on them but they fascinate me more than the girls who insist on interrupting my life.

I feel awful. It's not the alcohol because God knows I didn't drink enough of that even if I was less than steady on my feet. My face aches from the cold that I hope goes away soon. My feet buzz from walking too far around today. I'm rambling again. This is merely an extension of my mind and sometimes I forget this is public and people who know me read it. And when they mention things I've written in conversations I freak. I remember feeling I'd written something profound and insightful but then I always think that until I look at it a week later and laugh at my pretentiousness.

Nevermind. No doubt time will catch up me unawares and deadlines will scream in my ears and I'll be too flustered to give a damn about anything real.

~ You must forgive the title. I hope this makes up for it.

Brighter the light, the darker the shadow

Watching Walter the ballroom-dancing unicorn on stage, you'd think he was all honey and sweetness inside, right? Well, you'd be wrong. Come inside the apartment and you'd see the real Walter. He's got guns and knives leather jackets and nunchuks and all sorts of tough stuff.

But that's the way it is - when you grow up a unicorn on the mean streets of south neverland, you learn to be rough - or you don't make it out alive. Long eyelashes, rhinestone horseshoes and a fluffy mane might take you places in showbiz, but in the gritty world of gangs and street wars, they make you a target.

But with a combination of streetwise attitude and a killer foxtrot Walter knew he could make it. He just knew it. And make it he did!

And hey, if Walter had to off a few talking bunnies and the occasional leprechaun and whatnot along the way - Well, tough luck.

Life's a bitch.

The unnatural silence

I had always thought I was a proponent of silence, that in some way or another the unrelenting connectedness provided by email, smart phones, music players, the internet and even 24-hour television programming would not create a desire within me to fill every moment of silence we find with some sort of tech distraction. I however noticed that on this really long car ride today, as rather than stare out the window like I might have in the past, I kept reaching for the blackberry to see if I had missed any news from the online world.

Social networking, web connectivity and cell phones did not necessarily create this desire or problem.

Am the person who keeps his music on every waking minute, just to ensure there is never complete silence in the house. And to me, all that the new connectivity, on-line virtual game options and instant messaging is doing is to make it easier avoiding the awful specter of silent, alone time. Those who hold Blackberries or Facebook responsible for their chronic distraction misplace the blame. These technologies are enablers of our own innate desires that have existed far longer than transistors.

And our ingrained habit of constant connection makes disconnecting more difficult. And potentially more painful.

Where there's a will there's a way, of course. Which is what makes me suspect that at least part of the constant connectivity movement and technology stems from an inherent desire, within many of us, to have that distraction.

We are not, as a species, hard-wired for solitude. We're social animals, made to exist in tribes and packs.

Drops of Jupiter

I have worked out why this blog is prosaic. It is because I do not write things down as they happen, or even any thing close to near when they actually happen. I let time dull my memories and thus the words chronicling them, making it seem less than what they were.

My mind has been wandering a lot recently, partly due to learning some news that puts many things in the harsh light of objectivity. The news itself being the death of a cousin. Calling him a close friend would be stretching, but he was still someone we all liked to look up to.

Mortality always makes me have a good think about morality, it being something I am keenly interested in. Generally after its too late to put into effect.