Occupational Hazard

Life doesn't seem quite real tonight. Time is standing still. The world is waiting. For what, I don't know.

This feeling of separateness, of not being part of the world, of anticipation, is an occupational hazard, I suppose.

I've spent the day reading. Stepping out of this reality and into worlds created by others. In those other worlds, I exist, but only as an observer. The result is this odd sense of disconnect from reality.

First, it was Oscar Wilde's Salomé, a modern retelling of the death of John the Baptist and the girl who danced and won the reward of the prophet's head on a platter. I was reading it with an eye toward the embedded Greek myths in the text. I found Artemis, the virginal goddess of the moon and the hunt, and Persephone, the queen of the underworld. There were overtones of Hamlet, too.

Then, I read the first three chapters from a member of my writing group's work in progress. It's an otherworldly tale told by an introspective narrator.

Little wonder then, that I'm pacing around a darkened house and occasionally sliding outside, hoping to catch a glimpse of the moon.


Blogger jason evans said...

Sounds like a very melancholy moment. Those are the best.

6:19 AM  
Anonymous Coyote Beta said...

More introspective than melancholy. Fortunately, I live alone, so these moments don't disturb anyone else when they come about. Sometimes, I think the solitude intensifies them.

9:48 AM  
Blogger Mac said...

I love those moments, too.

9:31 PM  
Blogger jason evans said...

Have you found that's not so common a condition (i.e., appreciating introspection/melancholy)? I certainly haven't met many.

7:36 AM  
Blogger Mac said...

Yeah, Jason--I have. A lot of people avoid it, to their own detriment. IMHO, anyway *grin*

1:05 PM  
Blogger jason evans said...

Thanks for the link, Coyote Beta. You've probably noticed that I linked to you also.

Mac, it may be worse. I think most people are simply not tuned to that frequency. I've had people in some pretty amazing places in the dead of night, and while I've rarely felt more alive, they've been far more interested in whether they've managed to get mud on their new shoes....

8:03 PM  
Blogger Lori said...

What gets me, Jason, is when they interfere with that sense of connectedness you get from being someplace in the middle of the night. They wanted to come with you, but once out there, they are worried about stalkers or is the car parked where someone won't hit it or any one of a hundred different things. They can't just kick back and enjoy the moment.

9:49 PM  
Blogger jason evans said...

I hear you, Lori. Once I had a person freak at a cemetery wall. Rather than let him ruin the entire trip (two others were fine going in), I made him mill around the neighborhood until we got back. Of course, the other two failed to have that sense of connectedness inside. I just can't win, I'm afraid.

7:26 PM  

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