Death is not an end to hope, nor is birth the beginning of misery. Life, at all moments, continues the pain of ages past and harbors the hopes of all to come. Thus, as Fate decries on lonesome shorelines, the passing of one vessel in the night need not be dismissed as coincidence if another vessel happens to be near. Life, we’ve established, is not the messenger of accident but the distiller of contrivances into elixirs of pure miracle.
And as it works with ships in the night, so too does it work with souls tossed about by the changing seas of curiosity. We follow lust and allure deep beneath the moonlight, anxiously dancing through minefields of starlit peril, surprised when we survive, astonished when we reach the other side, ecstatic when the enemy proves masterful at the arts of sensuality.
But often the torture of psychological warfare erodes our affections. Often the trauma of intimacy illuminates the night with fireworks of argument, with explosions of frustration, and with the dull thud of passion subdued. So we tend to abandon our efforts. We live lost and unhappy, sheltered in the safety of home but dreaming the excitement of foreign adventure. Practical to a fault, and condescending to those who flaunt convention, we let life dictate our direction, no longer listening to our passions, no longer dancing through minefields.
Dare I say it’s time we all flaunt convention? Dare I say the shelter of safety must be unmade, the foundations of security pulverized into nostalgia-inducing fields of rubble? Dare I say we all, each and every one, need to rendezvous with our hearts in the quiet fields of explosive intensity? Dare I say we must follow our lust to wherever it leads, to the far corners of imagination and the fiery hells of happiness?
Indeed I dare. And so I’m off now to the minefields. I’m off now to a rendezvous. I know where she hides, and I must find her there. We are ships in the night who have already collided. Soon we will plunge into the depths of oblivion, lost in our own alien land of delight. Then the world will see. The Fates will falter. And that Universe, which so often constrains us with insignificance, will cease to dominate our thoughts. Dreams will lose ground to the actual. And passions will govern the souls of humanity. Death, in all its glory, cannot hinder the birth of enchantment when destined souls rendezvous.
I have two dates for this one in my notes. April 2009 and again, with slight modification, in April 2010. Not sure if/where I ever posted it previously.