At this point and time I feel like me…Mark…on a typical Wednesday after work. The font would be an outline of letters, with the intention of filling in the blanks with whatever color or colors fill the moment. Dark chocolate fills me as the flavor of the moment. Its mystery and its richness fills my soul and calms my emotions, leaving me languid. The aroma swirls up my nostrils with comfort of strong black coffee, not your regular blend, but the pack you keep in the back of the freezer for special occasions.
Yet, within that mystery and richness, the darkness prevails. The impending doom of so many ends approaches, as if a diabolical cabaret singer sits in Goth poses, plays the piano with lumbered key strokes, and sings about the loss of her lover, long dead for 200 years, hoping to return in a vampire state. The finality remains while the hope of ever after lingers like a batik print on the wall.
There probably will be another sun rising in the east, and it will cross the sky and eventually nest in the west, but not before creating a bed of purples, reds and golds…just as the day before, and before that. With its return will be the new inspiration brought to me by a muse who refuses to show themselves until the moment arrives. Until then, pondering what the inspiration will be and the muse who brings it is pointless. It shows up when you are taking a shower, filing a ream of papers into folders, or talking to friend about their dinner plans at the Chinese take out.
At this point and time, hope conjoured images of bigger dreams fulfilled. A lover’s arms that surround me, shoulders to lean on, eyes that twinkle with lashes that flutter, all surrounded by reasons without words and language without voice. Instead, it presents itself in others. The third person always sees what the first person never comes out to say directly. The gaze from one to another. The hug from behind the curtain. The soft kisses that love lips from the intended. And I hold the gaze, but not for too long so imposition is never revealed.
For now, I’ll be happy with the temporary feeling of being needed by others. You know, that feeling of being there when others need you but not returning it back. Like throwing the ball to your dog with the hope he/she will run after it, pick it up and return it…only to find he/she sits there, looking at the ball, then looking at you with that, “Really, you expect me to chase after that?” look on their face. The time will come when there will be a dog to actually chase, pick up, and return the ball back. Until then, I’ll stand by and put on a happy face or two…for the young couple who find love untainted…for the friends who find happiness in their current situation…for the friends who find the world a little difficult to bear…I’ll stand by with my happy face or two and wonder what colors will fill the blanks between the lines.
That is what Mark feels like right now…
(This was an exercise from the LGBT Narratives group on the forementioned date. The prompt I chose was how does my name feel. I added the idea of points and time as a reference. I was trying to describe a dark mood I was having that day...)
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