|||||sususmu yokota - purple rose minuet||]|
i just finished reading the amber spyglass and it has left me feeling extremely inadequate.
I read the trilogy for the first time when they were originally released and although this was only a few years ago (or well around 9 since the first, eugh!) it has been an entirely different experience this time round. When i read them at that age i was simply excited by the action, the witches, the travelling to new worlds and discovery of new places and beings. But i didn’t see any of the deeper substance of the books. This time there i would frequently stop during the books to repeat a single sentence in my head over and over entranced by its simplicity and profound meaning. I have spoken to a few people about this and told “when i was younger i didn’t see the deeper meanings of much of it at all”. Was i really that much younger?
I was ignorant. And i think probably willingly so. Did i fail myself at that age? Driven by others to achieve goals that were mere parodies, imitations and misinterpretations of what i truly desired and following these led my wishes to become transposable and indistinguishable from every other coin at the bottom of the pool, a dirty alloy of once pure elements producing a terminal for individuality. I did recognise this though, feeling a cork in my throat trying to prevent me from playing the notes of conformity and instead create a call of creativity and curiosity, or a fanfare of fury. But instead i follolloped along on the back of this here fly and let other areas of my intellect diminish. When i look at that time i have a full body muscle memory ( which rather than being rose-tinted is saturated with a deep aching regret – like looking at a photo and sighing “what was a thinking when i struck that pose” but where the pose is infact the continuous motion of life) of the slow seeping rise of excitement in a rebellion. “i will not do what you do” “i will not entertain myself intellectually with an interest in literature, politics or history or any of those things” although a trip to a castle was always enjoyed. I decided that “art” was what i was interested in, but of course “art” without literature etc. Has very little substance.
Unlearned, oblivious, immature, ignorant, unopinionated, lost. Lost.
I have lost myself in words, and don’t know where i’m going. But really that illustrates my thoughts. I never nurtured myself on words when i was younger. I want to dance like a dictionary .
Communication. Language. Speech. Connection. Shared thoughts.
These things come to me rarely and i don’t know why. Perhaps it is due to my lack flexibility and knowledge of the construction of verse. Maybe it’s because i am still driven towards impersonal goals. Possibly something else.
I didn’t talk when i was a toddler at all. Maybe part of my brain doesn’t function properly.
Maybe i need to make an effort.