rewiring the golem

An old friend from school wrote me today, to talk about various and sundry issues, and dropped a question about my "social and romantic life". I laughed and quipped back "I have one?"

I'm used to the high temperature and heat of Washington consulting and the aggressive women of the Bohemian underbelly of Los Angeles...neither place currently within walking distance. For now. Yes, there have been some intriguing candidates, but most are unattainable by ethical means and I am not the pirate I once was, although my piracy was usually my following a lead rather than my taking the lead...such is the burden of a romantic poet. Sigh. Witht he coping mechanism of my poetics in place, I have never had to transcend my natural insecurity around women.

Do I miss "it"?

You have no idea the rewiring I have had to do in my synapses not to run screaming into the night. It is inelegant, but effective, diverting a small fusion reactor of emotional and sexual energy into other venues (including a storage core that would make any sub-galactic sized black hole marvel in amazement) that allowed for enhanced creative and accelerated reflection. I don't even know if the wiring to nurture and maintain a relationship exists anymore, part of me is terrfied of finding out what happens when I start the engines again, I remember what I was like in Venice Beach after my last fast...and this one has been more purposeful, and longer, and I am more my own man than I have been in many years.

But, I am not quite ready yet to pull an Elizabeth and marry my title, foreswearing love and passion for legend and legacy. Not yet. The equations that got me here required the balance, the lift, of another, and I am not so self-absorbed to assume that I can yet continue an ascendency in my works without a princess, a goddess, a queen, to inspire and invoke me.

We shall see where the path leads. And to whom.