KALLISTI

I forgot to light my incense.  Hold on, I'll be right back.

Much better.  I know incense isn't everyone's bag.  I also know that over time it has acquired a certain stigma.  Associated mostly with new agers or pot smokers.  That's fine.  To each their own I say.  I am neither...really.  I simply love the way it makes my room smell.  Always have.  Always.

My dad didn't care for it much.  Mostly he said the smoke and ash bothered him.  I can respect that.  Not enough to not burn it though.  He never said I couldn't.  He just didn't like it much.

It has been said that every person who crosses your path in life has some impact.  I think that's neat.  I think it's a nice sentiment.  I also think its total bullshit.

I know I know.  There's me.  That rascally cynical shit ruining the fun for everyone.  However, bear with me if you will.  I am once again, as per usual, going to take the scenic route.

For starters, a small experiment.  Think of every single person you've ever met.  Think of their face.  Think of their name.  Don't miss anybody.  Remember them all.

Did it work?

I'm guessing not.

Let's narrow it down a bit shall we?

Try it again with every single person in your first grade class.

I can in all likelihood accurately assume that unless you were home schooled, or have some phenomenal memory, you failed.  You missed someone.

How about your first crush.
Of course that one was easy...but...but
How about your third crush.

I come from a rather large extended family.  I can't even tell you the names of all of my cousins.
My graduating class was somewhere in the neighborhood of 50 people.  I can't right now tell you the names of everyone I went to school with for twelve years.  Most of them, maybe...if I really stop and think about it. Which I won't.  At the time I could of course, but a couple of decades have separated me from the memory.

I'm not going to belabor the point.  I think you get it.

Don't get me wrong, I truly do appreciate the idea that everyone is that important.  The truth is, I'm not saying they aren't.  I hold life in absolute value.  Every single person is somebody, to somebody.  I simply can't pretend that everyone is somebody to me.

I like to think that anyone could be.  Given enough time.  Contact.  Information.  Exchange of ideas, thoughts, laughs, tears, and values, and yes...anyone could be that someone, but not everyone is.  That's just silly.

Contrary to that specific thought, idea, or sentiment...not everyone I've come in contact with has changed me.  In fact, very very few people that I'm incredibly close to have actually changed me.  Some have.  A few.  Certainly not many.  Certainly not all.

I also completely understand the idea on a more butterfly effect/chaos theory level.

 I have a very personal, very intimate relationship with mistress chaos.  I know her well.  I know the color of her hair.  I know the taste of her morning breath.

I have more than once caved in to her naked embrace.  She and I are often brief but fiery fornicators.  I have felt her mouth against mine, and her knife in my back.

I have her tattooed on my arm.

I know all of her unrules.

So yes, I understand the the most casual contact with a stranger passing in the hallway can affect the course of my entire day, in turn affecting my entire week, month. life.  I know this principle.  I understand this discourse.

It's also unknowable. Indeterminable.  Xfactors.  It can not be proven, touched, seen, or measured.  It is intangible, and therefore cannot be stated as fact.  Ergo once again...not every person I meet is going to have impact on my life.

I've mentioned before, a few times...a LOT...to the point of tedium, that I have a kind of disability.  Inability?  I don't know.  I don't really emotionally connect to a lot of things.  People.  Ideas.  Especially on a social level.

I was at a party last weekend where this was made very apparent once again.  A delightful young lad introduced himself to me.  We went through the introductory routine, and then I moved on.  Later he approached me again.  He very blatantly made some incredibly astute personal observations about me.  Turns out he's intimately aware of the type of person I am, by coincidence that his best friend on this planet is the same type of person.  It was intrusive.  It was fascinating.  It was a fun conversation.

This person didn't change my life.  He didn't have much of an impact overall.  He did make a party where I only knew one other person...a little bit more bearable.  That night I left the party, went home, went to bed, and didn't really give it another thought til just now.

Maybe I'm wrong about all of that.  Maybe for most people, all people really do have a stronger effect.  I'm not unaware of the fact that I am missing some essential life elements.  I just... I dunno...  I don't think so.

However, in the event that I am completely mistaken, allow me to personalize this all a bit.

I have forgotten more people than I'll ever really know.  The great majority of my personal interactions are forgotten, almost as I'm having them.  I am never making an intentional attempt to be a dick.  Almost every person I'm close with is because they are the ones who took the necessary steps to get close.  Not all.  Sometimes also, simple casual events created my relationships.  Theatre for the most part, but even there I am close to a VERY few of the actors I've worked with, when I compare to ALL of the actors I've worked with.

I simply don't let people in.  The ones that are?  Well...you snuck in.  You somehow...someway...got past all of my defenses.  Broke through my barriers.  And I so deeply thank you for that.

So here's the crux of it all.  (Told you I was taking the long way.)  You see there are people in my life, and you just may be one of them, who don't mean the world to me. You ARE the world to me.  I don't love often, or much, but when I do...well...there it is.  You come into my life, and you do change me.  You make me...more me.  You inspire.  You delight.

You come in, you say hello, and you bring your light with you.  Your intelligence, and your dreams.  Your smile.  Sometimes you bring your pain and your frustration, and I love you just as much through that.  Sometimes life gives you to me for a minute.  And sometimes...life takes you away again.  You're never gone though.

We're told to move on.  This is something I just cannot do.  I'm a love for life kind of guy.  I can move forward, but I can't move on, and I think there is a significant difference.  Perhaps it's simply semantics to some, but to me it's night and day.

I am haunted by all I have loved.  All I do love.
I am selfish.  The time I do have with you is never...never enough.  For this I taught myself how to stop time. I have learned to make my mind a camera.  I have learned to paint you in happiness.  I can't remember much of anything, but I'll never forget what it's like to touch you.  I'll never forget the sound of your voice.  And I'm not talking to just one of you right now.  I'm talking to all of you.  If you have touched me...I remember it with absolute perfection.  I hope to never make you feel uncomfortable, but I also want you to know that to me, you are poetry.  You are art.  You are the best part of being human.  To me.  For me.

You make me want to never die.

When I first started tonight, I was as always distracted.  I was trying to find my music.  I was trying to find my center.  I was reading other pages.  Other blogs.  I read a new post of one of my favorites.

My friend Deena posted a new blog tonight, and I would be remiss if I didn't mention that what she wrote honestly influenced where this blog went tonight.  They are not the same...by any means...but you may see similar themes.  She says some of these same ideas...but in my opinion much better.  If you don't or haven't read her words...well...please do.  It's worth it.  I'll even make it easy for you.

A series of goodbyes with stolen moments

I don't deny that everyone may be important.  IS important to someone else...but for me...fuck everyone else.

It's you I love.