"Story in which me & love interest end up reincarnated asgrasshoppers & sharing leaf at end"

~ Rua

"Story in which me & love interest end up reincarnated asgrasshoppers & sharing leaf at end"

I was, a person. I put that comma there because I had to think aboutit, because as a human being (I don't know if you've gone throughthis too) I sometimes have been so far out there, not felt like aperson at all.

Well, anyway, the second detail I've been often told is that I'm amale. Whatever that means, it's meant different things at differenttimes. While tripping I had felt male and female were simply twodifferent points, interchanging details til neither one was differentthan the other except in their differentness. I have felt that male wasthis thing that was something, while the female wasn't that, and thatthe female was something, at times when the male was somethingelse. I have felt really confused about the whole thing, torn b/w socialinfluence and innate creation.

Well, all that went goodbye when I saw her. When we related, it wasjust what we were doing at the time. It didn't matter that or if we hadpast or previous impressions of each other, any future problemswere not nonexistent, but certainly outside the realm of what weshould be doing here and now. Outside of life, there was non-life,and we were the god that others and ourselves pray to at moreunfortunate times.

But this was not an unfortunate time, when I saw her and we would,sit and talk, sit and listen to music, sit and do everything. Exceptwhen we would, stand and stuff, our faces with food, stand and walk,stand and be someone, stand and have bad times, good timestogether. Yes, that's one part I forgot to mention. It wasn't alwaysgood times. It wasn't always comfortable, or nice, or a relief from thesocial tensions and inward experience and self-evaluations we wouldalways experience at times. But it was always leading.

Leading towards what? I never know, except when I know. She's aclassic, munster of epic and retro and grand proportions. I'm that she

adorn out of this cloud.

Loud, that's when it's always the best. When you're magical andmiracle everytime you see her chest. When things don't exist andaren't to be worried about every time you don't see them. When thesecret to life is a necessary, but automatic, breathing.

---

I saw her first when she was out of my reach. I saw her second wheneach other we was to teach. I saw her third when... well, I can't tellyou about that part. Her name is Elisel. Pron. Ell-, iss, ell. Shespeaks my name when we're all alone. She sounds like a bell can'tyou tell. My name, my real name, of which I've never known.

Well, except that I have known, at times, when I was not all I was.When life feels funky like some... Well anyway, enough description. Ialways get tired when stories do that anyway. Let's get to the action.

---

We talked about... not so much religion, but stuff about friends,philosophy, felines and mandolins. We walked to get food, wewalked to find our stride, we walked to find the chase. The rightchase, without badness or disgrace. It's all well and fine, in the townwhere it's live.

And that town is here, when she and I are here. I sat down with her.

"Y'know, sometimes I think these tests, that we're supposed to dowell on them, do good on them, and just soak up whatever we canalong the way." I said

"Yes, but isn't that what we are doing anyway?" She said

"No not really." I said "Well, sure about the soaking up along the waypart, but I thought tests were supposed to be evaluations of what youhad learned, and they're not. You're just supposed to do good on

them."

"There is no code to how you get that grade. Anything goes" Icontinued

"Ahh, but well then you really are playing by a code, aren't you?" Shesaid "Because, how else would you get that grade but by going downroutes that were available to you, that you were okay with?"

"But what about the disjoint between what learned in class and whattested on test?" I said

"Hmm... well maybe.." She trailed off

Awkward silence. I don't know why awkward. And what's about thesethoughts inside, that say I'm supposed to steer in a certain direction.But I don't know what direction, I say, to myself, and isn't it up to bothof us to steer anyway? Doesn't the universe have of its own accordwhat happens?

I said: "Hey, wait, what were you 'bout to say? Sounds likesomething very interesting to me."

She giggled: "Heh, well the disconnect's not a disconnect at all." Iwas in love. She continued: "Look at your life on a daily basis. Yougo to school, so many things happen, so many things at the sametime. Who's to say what belongs where."

Abstract, eh? I like where this is going, although I don't know whereit's going.

We continued talking til the trail left off... hushed, hushed time... andmusic continued. We were at a concert, I forgot to mention.

Actions continued, split-ups, and reconvenes, but we were alwaysclose the whole time. When we were there, together. Which was90% of the time. And when we were close we were between 3 feet...5 inches, and touching apart.

What a day, what a world. I wrote a poem about her before, I didn'ttell her about that fact. I've written many a poem before, she knowsabout that fact.

She goes up, back, out into the life she knew before and since. Shegoes, where I don't know, I couldn't possibly know, but I can relate itto you like this. She goes to all the other men, which would piss meoff if I thought about it when I think of her. She does her beautifulmusic and art, and random times and unbelievable fashions ofnormalcy and just being yourself.

The random times are just the most endearing thing, as they are toanyone, but specially to her as she doesn't show them to me whenwe are together, because we don't know each other very well yet.

Well, whatever. Back to the course. Time flies by, we get married,although I always thought I'd stay in love with her and other women,or we don't get married, and I marry someone else, although I alwaysthought I'd stay in love with that someone else and other women aswell, including Elisel.

Either way, we lose either other. The distance from life causes thetrack to become anonymous, life being the change, the vibe, theexcitement and commotion of things. How can you have that whenthings are planned.

It's not that it's worthless, y'know. Many things are built in theplanned life, with or without her, and many things we do in this life,that are only possible because we are us. Whether I'm married to herand see her every day or had my little thing with her and never seeher again.

What's-

---

What's it? Where's it at. I see her here and there. I see her in my

dreams, where she becomes less and less frequently attending butmore important each time, because she's so rarely there. I see her inreal life, and it's like she came out of nowhere. Like there's nothingthere before. No words, no stare, when we are there. Oh my gawd.

/

;

)

$Telling a story again. I got ice cream with her. The ice hung off 'emwith a relaxed soul. The life around and within seemed to glow. Shepaid for it all, that's how her non-misogynist I know. Not sexist, notseeking for me to be someone I'm not, she know.

Man, at the gazebo, we ate and it seemed like magic 'fro. With thecream on top, with her my attention paid did not seem to make mefade. We both paid the job of covering each other, and for somereason that seemed to make life better. For a little while at least,although then there was more cushion room to hold me up when weparted. It was a different time.

Now there's nothing to hold me up in this land but myself when I ain'tgot her, and ironically that might make it harder to reach those timeswhen I get her. Or perhaps not ironically, as love is not amasturbation sequence, unless it is your first time doing it.Afterwards you gotta look for new life, new life, the outer, theunknown. I've been holding myself up alone so long, I know I'm notwhere the unknown lives.

The unknown lives in her. Why her, as opposed to all other things.Why? What a silly question. Onward with the story.

After the ice cream, we went to take a walk, joust, and jest verbally,and bump into each other occasionally. She looked up with that little,nottotallygivingitself away look, I would respond as if I was nevershook. Was it a first date? I don't know. But I do know that I would

see her again.

---

Chapter 2

Every time I make affronts and fronted sequences with the wronggirls I would know it. There was something to the waste-of-time feels,the goal-oriented behavior, the lack of ability to discern betweenbefore and after the times I had seen them.

With the right women it's the opposite. The waste-of-time feelingshave a time-spent-well quality to them. The bad feelings are real, butyou never seem to blame the other person for it. Not /really/. How doI know this, the real versus the fake blaming? I know, by the fact thatthey even exist, that I seek to write about them. You don't see mewriting about this girl or that girl, or this thing or that thing, that meannothing to me or that I will ignore.

No, this is nothing like that. Something to be cherished, something tobe haunted by, but only when the time is right, to push me to do whatI need to, seek to, and must do in this life, or the next. Not stoppedby death, that's what I told her best. And she believed me, and sheshould, because she knows I never approach wood. I neverapproach rest, I must do all, I must live life, even if I fall. Into herarms, she'll lay cards, to tell me simply, it's all okay. And I'll believeher, and I should, because I know what she gives is good.

I ignore family for it. I ignore my tribe for it. I have learned fromexperience, she is the ultimate. And I know not why. Her eyes likesky. My rhymes like ti-, 'de to wipe away all this dismay. I will repeatwith diminishing returns for her, I commit blasphemy for her.

And she notices, does she? Her hair and eyes repeat demise. Herwithdrawn center, within it lies. The important part, the part I couldnever touch... I can only experience it when I let go of this bullshit

...

Well, Elisel, she goes back to her life. She does all her chores andconsiders the knife. Why, to cut her wrists, to go back in thesqueezing? The squeezing must be better than this, the outside thatis teasing. Alone in the mist, alone in the mystery, moseying about. Ithought she would be better than this, I thought she would survivethe drought.

Back to the epic before, the date that is gone bad. Only speaks ofhumor, only gets it right, once in a little while. I'm talking about thisdate in the concert hall, more like, more in, the current time. Thecurrent time is fine I guess, but it's Hell, look at so hard each otherwe are to sell, each other, to. But we still try it out. 6 & a half hours,marathon style. What else could we do. What a pain with which toimbue. Even when you're facing the concert, you're looking at yourlover. Even when you're dying, you're living in a fantasy. What a day.What a nice, fine ol girl.

---

Flash forward, again. Further. Things are worked/workin' out. Theymeet at an ice cream parlor. Funny, funny meeting you here again.

"Funny, I was just about to say the same of you." She said

"Well, I'm just full of surprises." I said

"Well sure you are." She said

Instead, I interrupted the procedure.

"Well, where's the waiter here?" I said

"What? Well it's an ice cream parlor, there's no waiter." She said

"Ha ha, well hey." I said "If you wanted me to make sense youshouldn't have known me all these years."

Shifting gears.

"Heh, well you know we weren't meant to meet

---

I can't continue that story, it means too much to me. I wish I couldend this, go right to the end, but I can't. Very well, I'll continue moreof the thrill.

"Heh, well you know we weren't meant to meet now, this time, thisparticular instant." She said

"You know I always loved your use of... directed cognitive styles, youknow. I know you always thought I liked that pseudo-masculinism ina woman."

She was speakless, affronted, probably. She had never heard thatuse of language by a guy, and she did, certainly didn't know how toreact by experience of prior situations. After all, this was me.

"Well, umm, ahhh...."

--You've got a lot of nerve, coming in here-... (She said under herbreath)

"Huh, what?" I said

"Oh, nothing." Said she

"Okay, I guess I'll see you here tomorrow."

"Sure you will." She said

Maybe I'll see her next year....She•she likes when I go threw, throw my purpose all about and fuckit up. I like wh-

To be continued...

;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;::::::::::::::::::

Part 2 (Chapter 3)

Palming her ass, I feel it was all ordained. I couldn't believe thewords that were coming out of her mouth. She was saying dirtywords and speaking them right like a man; she was letting her dickgo limp and doing all that she can. Because she doesn't have one,silly; this has been such a long ride, to get to where I can go at last,to home to get inside. And she spreads it wide. Wide as the neonvalleys inside Monaé's picturesque pieces... Wide as the mind inwhich I had only imagined creases. Inane, I wondered - - - wow, shecould've been with me on so many previous adventures. The germandrunken brew-fest, the college-time, I could've joined her; she wasaround at least, and at least I would've gotten a chance. If I had onlyknown of her, if she had only known my mask. Relax... this isn't allabout... I'll tell you how

Elisel is a maiden of unspeakable whoredom. She lets it all out, fromearly age until well too old. She knows well, all too well. I

I, I can't let the fire go tonight. Not until it is burned out, done, and outof me all that light. Fight, love? Why come from. Love? Why.

I assume, this will never change. My love for her, will never change.It was the same when young, when took, many different forms. It isthe same, when, existing, when doubting. When pouting. She? He.Me? Thee. Us. We nosotros.

You must wonder when I get to the end, to when and where storydictate itself as a viable thing, not announced as simply un-completeand sing-, songy not. Of complete entity, entity life of thought.

Well, let me tell you a little more about the concert first. She, sheabducted to my side, we bonded, despite all odds, laughing and

chatting about who-knows-what, when and where I know not thedetails. Details still living, details that shape everything, we shape,we fit in place, dezpite all the jagged edges.

And then, the sexual moment. The arm, stretch... if not this then last,... noo... Must do. For too; there is eating up the nervousness...zipper bond. Our bodies, souls are like slippers, into each otherbond. So surreal, time c. In a year when nobody could say no to me,she meant no to me. That's when I stepped away. In a lifetime,

Mmffdf. G mmmmm all so funny. Heh, elision. Eliss tryyy

Try. She did, every time I saw her. When rock stars performed theirshow or when they weren't so clear. When the truth was sizzling hotor right as political smear. She was there, entangled kinetically to myquantum elements. Her quantum elements. Moving through life, onto this one and the next, situations, coming, going, coming, fading,into, each other, she's there, is she there?

She sees the sea and sees I must mean it, and is okay with me withthat. Mean it when I say it, that's what she means by that. She seesanother, another male, and says another thing. Okay if he doesn'tmean it. Whatever, he's not me, he doesn't play by the same rules.We plays by all the rules. It's hard to explain, because when her andme together, we are still just who we are, still just a saturn radiationand not the whole solar system, but we are the whole universe, atthe same time. You get what I mean? I don't feel like that all the time,not when I'm not seeing her, not really seeing her.

Time goes on. Again, you see, the oldness sets in. The difference,the change that leaves you with less than what you gauge. It's notlike I'm even noticing her wrinkles or anything, it's just I'm notnoticing her as much, not as often. When I see her in the face itseems her lips just seem to soften. That's when it all happens again.When I fall down, and forget the good and remember the bad, it's adifferent story. She yaps and whines, different voice than I know herreal voice is. Know? Think... I can't even remember, what was it like?New temptation. I use my rejection of other suitors (and the pain

endemic to such a procedure) as my pride to show how much I"love" her, such like near the beginning, at the concert... Whenanother girl wanted me to show her and I turned away. Felt likechoking my penis.

How much pain, am I willing to go through to show you how mean?How I love? Funny, ironic, cause she likes when I do what I want.When I dance when I want to she likes it, gives me touches. Whenthe girls flirt up and I respond, she likes it. Jokes about it. When themusic's not in my mind but I dance so as to show the world that I'mtough, she hates it. She hates it so much, whether I know it or not. Iknow it. She doesn't see me, at times like that. But I see that I don'tsee her.

---

Another story. Once, first time (?) I met her, my voice was gone,rasped to lack of control and tone, emotion. She met me. That's it,that's all I remember.

One time, we did drugs. Elisel, she did... not DMT with me... it wassalvia. Smoked it, each both, exploded, across the dimensionalrealm. Not groovy, real. I see her, all I see, she sees me, from hercrooked fucking face.

"Charles, stay with me, are you okay?" Holds my hands. Assuresme. I assure her, she needs no assurance. When it's her turn, that is.She just gets so gloomy, like me.

Where do we go from here. She gets older, I get older. Our love, itdoes smolder. Fiery fiery flame. Bearing not in name, what it does inreal ol' world. Our rhymes on world unfurled. She's the reason that Ido it. She doesn't need me. Beatles song.

Where's it goin', minutes in the mix each time. Little kisses, little fine.Little is fine. Never does a line. We never do that kinda shit, cokeand shit, the bad drugs, the bad bad drugs. Wring it out, the waterfrom our lives. Rinse it out into the world, the world that needs the

drives. They need it, way more than could possibly be executed.Anyone other than, Elisel & I could not

Could not have done it.

---

Flash backward. Ripe near the beginning, our love was burgeoning,scary, meant to last? Flash forward. Will it be lasting, even as it'slasting? We grow, raise kids, together or apart. We do everything weneed to do, together or apart.

Welcome to tragic flaws, tragic, human flaws. The kind that separateus. The kind that leads to our demise, uncontrollable by us. Hers isher need to maintain the social order, some amount of pretendingthe limitations that females can be. Mine is my need to be a man.Not just a man, but pretending the world is not falling down when itis, not being the individual I know I can be. Yes I know. Soundssimilar, sounds similar to hers. Her tragic problem. Let's see how itplays out.

There are differences. She allows her pretending the female role toA) kill her long-term finances. Even if she's making money, she'ssupposed to not make more than her husband or quit him so as tonot make herself seem too 'manly', too in control of her own mannersand her life. Obviously, this is ridiculous, because just like from her tome, I like when she does what she wants to do. I like when she doesa thing just for doing it. Feminine thing, just because. Cursingrampantly at motherfuckers, just because. Being a caring person,just because. Cutting her hair short, whenever. She's still a woman inmy eyes.

My problem, my flaw, as I said, spawns too, and it spawns like this: Ican't let my pretend self and real self too close together. I do what Ineed to do, to win, survive, and suffer and lose because of it. I let itout, let it all hang out, and win, survive, and joy and free because ofit... But then don't pay attention to it. I lose it, because of I don't knowwhy, and become dissatisfied at not knowing why I've made such a

mistake. :/

See? Different. She tragically dies off because she can't be both aman and woman, as we all are, and instead pretends to be whatevershe is not. I pretend to be having a decent time or about to have adecent time, when I know I don't know if I will or not. You see,pretense, under different things being pretended.

Enough to make a mind lose its cool, lose its motivation...

One more conversation to relate to you:

We met, we met at the crossroads, between circumstance andsituation. In the thin, crease-thin space between nothing, we met to...

"To what? Why am I here." One of us said

"Catch, you get to find out only at the end." She said

"Wait a sec..." I said "I've been away at war, surrounded by onlymen. Do you understand? Even when I dream of coming back, Idream I'll be a horrible person and destroy you when I come back..."I trailed off

She said: "That's what makes you soft. It's okay."

I cried.

"No worries friend, brother, gentleman. That's why I like you.Because you never cared about whether I said 'I like you' first, or yousaid 'I like you' first. You never cared about anything." She said

"And that's why" She said

"I like you." She said

She gave me a smooch and went on her way.

That is, of course, a misconception, I thought.

I thought about what I care about and went on my way.

---

School bus, school bus late, early in life. I get on. There's still herthere, she's sitting next to me & my friend while we ride the bus. Ridethe bus past the Charlie bump; that's the spot where the driver hits adip in the road and the bus bumps us who are at the back of it, up afoot or so. I remember her being there. She was nice, icey smooth,irresistibly cool. We all were. C?

When you're kids, no need for... Well I mean to say, when you'rekids, the life is smooth. Easy, no looking back. No looking ahead.You wonder what's allowing this to happen, except you *don't*wonder, because you're too busy in the living of life. If you do wonderyou're just doing that in the living of stuff. No best time to be a kid,anyone can be a kid.

---

Chapter 4

In the end we died, died and it was done, dead, at the end of the line.At the end of the line, at the beginning of the journey. Where's shego, where'd he go. Inseparably twisted, and yet so far out, pushed bythe course of death. In the end they both knew their purpose, bothknew what was to do. They both reincarnated, came back to thisworld in the new form, as grasshoppers, beyond all odds. Except itcouldn't be a coincidence, of course. Maybe all their life they weregrasshoppery, just waiting for an excuse to go down that path.Maybe it was never meant to be like that, and they just twisted it,twisted fate, so that they could come back for I-don't-know why. Wellanyway, they met on the leaf.

They met on the leaf.

And they ended up sharing it together.

The End