journal-10/01/98

10/01/98

Do you ever forget why you're living?

Do you even know in the first place?

Well then, there are the days that go by smoothly, where nothing extraordinary or catastrophic happens, it's just an ordinary day. I have learned to truly appreciate those days, because they are the air, the water; and the traumatic or amazing days are the fishnet. Here I go back to Flaubert's Parrot again, geesh!

Let me clarify.

The things we remember are the things that stand out in our minds. Those memories are the fishnet-- the woven rope that holds life together. We sift through the water, where everything else gathers and moves. We can't ever really grasp it once the first instant of an experience occurs: we can vaguely see it pooling at our feet, we can run our hand through it and feel the past cooling the tips of our fingers. But, like grains of sand, like molecules of water and air, we can never hold onto it. It's there, it's part of us, but simply undefinable.

That's what the fishnet is for-- it's something tangible to hold onto, something for us to grab and show other people, "THIS! Here, THIS is who I am! This is what I've done! These are the things that have happened to me!" when more often than not, it's the air, water, & sand that give us the foundation for such mellodrama.

So, what are the fish?

(Yeah, so I'm taking this analogy to the extreme. Don't blame me, blame Flaubert.) I think the fish are people in our lives. Some, we catch-- they become part of us, they become part of the fishnet. Others pass through our lives, but they don't stay. But in one way or another they have affected us. They have caused the water, air, and sand to move and sway around us. They have caused a comotion in the sand trapped & resting quietly beneath the water-- they have swiped away some of the cobwebs hiding in the depths of our souls.

I do have one such person in mind for me personally, and he has now apparently passed through my net. He was gracious, kind, giving, so generous, and he helped me to relax and become comfortable with my new surroundings. He gave me new memories so that I wouldn't be so lonely for my older ones, new memories to make this new place seem less detestable and more like me. It seems that he has moved on now, and it's forcing me to do the same.

It's really too bad that fish have to be so fiesty sometimes... it's so hard to remember that some of them just don't like to be caught.