stronger

I have never forgotten the lesson of my brother's car accident. He was battered by the impact of the 18-wheel truck slamming at 60 miles an hour into the compact car he was in with his fiance. She was killed.

And yet, he only slowly remembered the incident. It took him days to place himself in the car with her. Days more to ask her status. The mind only lets you remember what you can handle, however marginally. It won't let you be destroyed in the maelstrom, although it sure as hell doesn't mind you feeling the lash of the wind.

So, today, when my hands crossed my keyboard as I wrote, just hours after a joint recording session with Dan McTaggart (we captured some good stuff, watch for it on my website's podcasting page in a day or two), I asked myself what music I could cope with...usually the most I can take is Johnny Cash's disturbing version of "Hurt".

But I am stronger. I pressed the keys and summoned up the toxic folder. Songs that have the capacity to tear heart from soul and flesh to bone. I had passworded it, to protect myself. I could not recall the password over the past months.

Today I did. Ann's birthday appended to Brigit's middle name.

The folder opened to my touch and I pressed the mouse button to start the music playing.

Pain. But the skin is growing back, I made it through "Crash Into Me" and "Heart of Gold" and "Kiss from a Rose". I almost stopped at "Tupelo Honey" but pushed myself away from the keyboard. Then, the thousand knives of Portishead's "Glory Box".

Neitzche never walked this path. But I smelled him on the wind.

Night blooming jasmine.

I will dream poetry tonight. I am almost through with the cold wombs.