Thu, 31 Aug 2006

adversary
It had been seven years and I thought I had changed so fundamentally that she would never recognize me. I had put on and lost and put on weight, lost and put on and lost muscle, lost hair, lost beard, lost glasses, lost alternarock tshirts and combat boots and put on a semi-quaker austerity, sold books and bought books, sold cds and records, developed a shaking in the right arm and a clouding of the eyes, I was a different person, I could not be seen by those who once knew me, I had changed, but she knew me the second she saw me, as these were not the traits she knew me by. None shall ever escape.

She called me and I did not beg her forgiveness, and I suppose that is a victory. She spoke of play, how adults think of play as a casting off of responsibilities, a brief respite from deadlines and debts when all things could be equal, while a child thinks of play as a taking on of responsibilities, of rules and boundaries and goals, burrowing into private obscessions and bone-deep satisfactions, and I told her she was not so much a teacher as a spy from the international adult conspiracy, expecting her to laugh, or at least notice the pete and pete reference, but instead she sighed, and was quiet, and finally said maybe I was right. My impulse was to tell her I was sorry, but I cannot tell her that anymore, and as always I was glad I did not follow my first thought. Instead I told her that back when I was writing that’s exactly what I did, I gave myself completely critical yet entirely false restrictions and demands. She then told me I was a spy for the International Child Conspiracy, and I said if only, if only.
(03:49.08.31.2006) [/scrytch] #