The Writing on the Wall

Yesterday was all about disclosure…whether on the Facebook wall or on my wrist. Yep, I finally succumbed to my desire to ink my skin. I’d considered it for awhile, and now just seemed right. This is my year for doing things my way, the right way, at the right time…

“The man in black fled across the desert, and the gunslinger followed”. It’s the first line of The Gunslinger, the first volume of the epic journey that Roland Deschain travels in the Dark Tower series. The book made a lasting impression on me the first time I read it, and that one line has continued to spin inside my head. There was simply no question that this was what needed to be on me.

In The Gunslinger, (as in Browning’s poem, “Childe Roland to the Dark Tower Came”), there is a feeling of anxious meaninglessness coupled with an anxiety that nothing is stable or reliable.

“The man in black fled across the desert, and the gunslinger followed”. In the middle of an empty landscape filled with empty people, the Gunslinger has a purpose. He has direction. He is the last of his kind, and his mission gives him substance and holds his narrative world together. He is the glue at the center of things.
 
(I stole that perfectly worded interpretation from a Strange Horizon’s blogger named David Higgins.)

So onto the fun stuff…my dear friends were there with me yesterday to help me endure the pain and to share in the moment. The postable quotes came fast and furious, and so we divided them up amongst the three of us. Here are just a few of the remarkable ones…there are many more that we didn’t/couldn’t post and so many others that we couldn’t remember once the laughter and tears stopped.

  • Carl: “Spontaneity should be something you can sleep off.”
  • Sean (my cute tattoo artist): “Those are dating rules to live by…open sores are never good.”  
  • Sean: “Don’t worry about the shaking. I know the difference between voluntary and involuntary. Just stop thinking about it, or you’ll shake more. And besides, I’m holding you down.”
  • Me: “I want to tell all the people, ‘I am not a cutter’! Damn, I look like I spent some time in the ER after a fight with a razor blade.”
  • Brad: “Did you just feel the gay go by?” Me: “Oh yeah, I just felt the gay.”
  • Brad: “Was that the weight of her ass that just made your fork settle on the plate?”
  • Me: “He’s young. When he leaves me messages, he tells me to ‘holla’.” Brad: “Sweetie, you ain’t no hollaback girl.” 
  • Carl: “Lordy, lol. I thought that was just between us and all of Glenwood South.”
  • Carl: “I just came into a cupcake inheritance. And it is good.”
  • Carl: “I feel so old.”
  • Me: Hahahaha…BTW, spellcheck wants hahahaha to be ‘Haitians’.

And so I have direction. I have purpose. I have some anxious meaninglessness. I have a swollen and sore wrist. I also have a reminder of my purpose visually available to me at all times. And…I have written public documentation of the entertaining journey that got me there.