Sunday, October 02, 2005

neomemory

I shouldn't be writing to you as you have stopped all contact with me.

But you are the 1st letter of this letter, and given that I feel separated from my reason to be, presently paranoid to the possibility of all-seeing agencies, and mad at myself for not accepting responsibility on so many fronts, I would like to ask you this: do you miss the day we met?

Perhaps it was the way you explained our attraction in terms of valence bonds, and love in terms of symmetry which you defined as “the invariance of a configuration of elements under a group of automorphic transformations”. Perhaps it was the red glow of the exit sign above the entrance to the underground Roman bath-house-turned-bar where we first danced. Perhaps it was the painful company of your absence during my reading of Balzac’s harlot high and low. Perhaps it was the memory of that night when I brought you an ashtray so you could keep me on ice until my body returned. Perhaps it was the laughter heard with you and the silent fear of what was to come. Perhaps it was the emergence of the possible end of the relationship as an idea in my mind. Perhaps it was the proximity of air-conditioned sounds to our bed. Perhaps it was your morning mood swings and temper tantrums suggesting you had a more variable body bubble than most. Perhaps it was that I liked thinking about you or liked myself thinking about you. Perhaps it was your unbearable tendency to say 'perhaps'.

You were so effortlessly intuitive - 'a simpler interface is a more perfect interface'.

And all your analytical judgements – nothing next to your smile.

4 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

'Effortlessly intuitive', 'A simpler interface is a more perfect interface'. Ah yes, Saudi girl, that make be true of machines and the electonic tools which help us to navigate through the entropic chaos of existence. But interfaces are not like people and not like love. Interfaces are tools, not epiphanies. Interfaces do not draw back the veil to reveal worlds unseen. 'Effortlessly intuitive' - yes, I can see how that flatters your vanity; it is self-affirming; to have your weltanschauung intuited is to have it confirmed. But love should be a journey whereby one moves from self to other, whereby one learns and grows. An effortless journey is a meaningless one. Through suffering comes knowledge. Per aspera ad astera. Love is an achievement, not an accident.

2:55 AM  
Anonymous Mata ego said...

Smiles apart
What is that curious parting of the lips and narrowing of the eyes anyway? Rupture. A suture more implacable than the one I am trying to hide. Mishaps they wonder Is it I? Could it be B? All 1033?
A serenade to a swoon that magisterially spells Spurious.

1:40 PM  
Blogger Trevelyana said...

What can I say.. you're writing is simply enchanting! My favorite blog so far...

10:33 AM  
Blogger Hning / Alia said...

Can you cease from being Saudi just by leaving it? Or having your passport expire while you're abroad? How about if you manage to be forgotten?

Can you be reborn?

12:14 AM  

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