rm_achzyrm 48M
0 posts
1/29/2006 8:14 am

Last Read:
3/5/2006 9:27 pm


Clearly, I'm the freak, the aberration... I mustn't forget that The World is not like Austin, that xenophagia and arrogance reign beyond the scrubs and prarie.

The last time I spoke with Renee Zellweger was in January of 1994. Her little red Honda CRV, which we'd tooled around town in, quite a number of times, as I introduced her to the artistry of Kevin Ogilvie and DeWayne Goettel -- and fuck you, for not knowing who they are, you Philistine -- sat outside, around the corner, loaded down with all the possessions she could pack within it.

I'd known her for a little more than a year. She was my friend, and more than that, my teacher, as I was hers. As I taught her Dark, she taught me Light. She was my friend. We never kissed, nor embraced in anything but a platonic, deep and penetrating soul-hug. I never so much as contemplated touching her in want, or lust.

She was my friend.

We'd met through somebody else, a dim bulb, arrogant Trust Fund daughter with no real contribution to make to the universe, and almost instantly fell into orbit around each other, quickly sloughing off the crust of the idiots with whom we'd fallen in, suddenly and blindingly dazzled in the presence of Mind unlike anything -- anything -- either of us had imagined.

There were trivial conversations and jokes, and serious bouts of effort on our artwork, together. She acted, of course, while I wrote scripts, with her in mind. I helped her prepare a reading for a speaking part in "Dazed and Confused," a role she -did- in fact receive, but the studio deprived her of, opting instead for some inconsequential, long-since-forgotten soap opera starlet.

But more than anything else, there were the talks. Never on the phone, never when we had only a spare moment. Only ever together alone, one-on-one, walled off from distraction, eye locking eye, with energy, and passion, and conviction. Somehow, for NO reason of logic, she and I, together, had decided to strip away every boundary between us, to see each other with nothing other than a pure, unwavering love, compassion, devotion, and honesty.

And so then, our last night together. At no time did any consideration that here was where we parted, invade our safe space together. Not once did I think about tomorrow, or the days thereafter. It was then as it had always been, this precious, undescribable communion between two souls, outside of time, detached from flesh and earth, two distinct creatures who, somehow, found a rabbit hole out of the miserable world, with its crush and tumult, and followed it, the few times they could, to a place neither would ever return. The Now.

I will not waste a single word detailing my emotion at the end of our travels. If you're still even reading, and haven't rolled your eyes and slurred some stupid remark about "gay," still, you couldn't possibly care less. So fine - return, then, to your meaningless rutting, awaiting your eventual rot.

The point here is this: That woman, the one with the Oscar, with the millions of dollars and fans, the one who achieved nearly all of her dreams before the age of forty? THAT woman... GOT it. That woman didn't flee, sheeplike, from a Mind the likes of which she'd never encountered. That woman was nowhere even remotely CLOSE to whom she had been, the day we met, as she lived a normal, uninteresting life, but for her cohabitating with a "band" of soon-to-fail "heavy metal" "musicians." That woman stepped out of the constant, worthless sameness of her day-to-day existence, and when confronted with something valuable, meaningful, and at times overwhelmingly challenging to endure, both emotionally and spiritually; at times, capable of reducing her ego to racking sobs, of returning her to prayer after a decade; when standing there, emotionally naked, -nailed- to the -cross- as her complacency and "normal" mode of thinking collapsed into ruin...

SHE... DID... NOT... FLEE!

She did not flee.

She endured the hardship of learning that until then, at 24, she had essentially wasted her life, not once considering any important question that cannot be answered. Not once recognizing that she stood within a bubble of utter luxury, fantastically fortunate not to have been born into the desperate misery of 9/10ths of human life. She endured the exposure to futility and void, and as she was born to do, she lit a candle to the darkness. Became a light, a beacon, illuminating the jagged fragments of hope, joy, and meaning, scattered randomly throughout the darkness. And before she took her higher path to the life she deserved, she made certain that I could find those fragments also, even groping blindly through the dark.

It is the reason I still live.

I have not spoken to Renee in... 12 years, now. To this very moment, I would -die- for her. Immediately, without hesitation, spitting my last breath into the face of anything that threatened her. She, six months my elder, is like a daughter to me, and therefore far more valuable than the scorched shell that binds my soul to earth.

Because she GOT it. She could, through her perfect balance between her world-view and mine, discern Truth. And by that alone, she transcended... everything. In her success, her happiness, I... am... -validated-.

That is my contribution to Reality, the ripple wave of my impact upon the universe. That is the river of time, shifting its course entirely, letting flow a wholly different path of future history -- because I had been standing there.

So then, mock. Disbelieve, ridicule, accuse, dismiss, insult. I know what the truth is, and the truth is that I, just as I am, have mattered.

Have you?

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