weird parallel universe, where I am clean-shaven and enjoying bacon with the misfit. Over here, it just looked like boys fiddling with an enormous phallus.
That's why I like the parallel universe much better than this one. Everything is much cooler — the way it's supposed to be.
But that's fine. I'll make it over there one day, even if only in my dreams, and life on this plain feels alright right now. I had a lengthy chat the other night with Tamlya, one of the Amazons, and hearing what was on her mind helped me focus on something else besides my navel. She also made an interesting observation: whenever I speak of a certain subject, I become more measured and careful with my words. More circumspect, I guess (and it has nothing to do with Tamlya's role as a witness to my execution). Discretion seems the right attitude to have on this particular front. Not being discreet — being too heavy, being too much of a clumsy Bigfoot — is what got me knocked asunder in the first place. In this new chapter, my step and touch are much lighter, and it's not an act; I feel comfortable being a man with less bluster.
Of course there are things left unsaid, unspoken sentiments that sometimes leap to the tip of my tongue, especially when the mental corridor opens. The difference in me now: I no longer blurt out what I'm feeling. That would mean losing an easy friend, and right now the shoe fits. It's an amazingly selfless sensation, one that is noble and pure of heart. Truth: I am surprised at myself for being this way, but the feeling comes from a place without artifice. I didn't know I had it in me. Then again, I didn't know calm resided within me, either. It took turmoil and addiction and an accident in my brain to make me see the light, make me be the light. When I hear that L-word I think of sweet, and as far as legacies go, I could do a lot worse.
My journey through the monomyth continues. My footing feels more certain. Almost as if I could start skipping.