Only. Absurd to think we have been reduced to happiness when it's hot instead of fucking broiling. But relativity is our friend when absurdity rules the world. It's all about relativity today, kids.
After my mother died of lung cancer there were dozens of people who let me know that it was good she was no longer suffering, and wasn't I glad about that? Well, sure. It would have been even better if she wasn't dead.
After I had a stroke, people let me know how lucky I was, how the quad cane wasn't that bad. Relatively speaking, they were correct. But at that moment the cane felt like a millstone around my neck, sinking me to the bottom of the sea.
Albert Einstein, of course, is famous for two theories of relativity — the egghead one and the one about girls:
When a man sits with a pretty girl for an hour, it seems like a minute. But let him sit on a hot stove for a minute and it's longer than any hour. That's relativity.That's why Einstein is a rock star.
It's a relatively good week. El gato is getting better, albeit on his own timetable. Long-ago friends have come forward with thoughtful observations. There seems to be some adjustment in my relationship with Calliope. I'm alive and I know my alphabet. My head's in a better place than it's been in days.
That said, it's still an absurd world. Words and intentions get confused with amazing ease; not long ago a friend came over and thought I was seeking something more than conversation, and when I rebuffed a pass she drew up and exclaimed, "What, is it because I'm not 24?" Yeah, fucking absurd, and not cool. Not cool at all. But relatively speaking, a helpful experience. It helped make me certain of what I feel, what I want — and what I don't want.
I go forth with a paraphrase of something Dr. JG (no hate, much love) sent my way:
I am not worried about things I have not done, but of things I have left to do.There is much left to do in my world. For the first time in a while, I'm actually looking forward to doing them.