measured_words | Pieces Part Ten

Tenth installment - a minor milestone. My word count tells me that I am averaging around 1350 words each time, although in reality there is quite a range. This installment falls a little short of that, but the last section was quite long, so I hope you will forgive me. I am pleased that I have managed to keep this up for six weeks running this time, which is a little longer than I managed when I first started back in early 2005. I hope I can keep it up, although I have decided that I will try and bring this to some kind of conclusion by the end of the year, so that I can try working with something that is more entirely original.

Other Pieces

Jogging is a good way to fulfill several objectives. I can familiarize myself with the neighborhood and its occupants, I can try and stay in shape, and I can do something that will kill an hour or so of each day, forcing myself to get out of the house. I am running straight south on 78, yesterday I went north. If Xi is correct, and my problem is depression, then the regimentation and the exercise itself may help some. I don't believe it is so simple; however I am not an expert in these matters.

I have been running for twenty minutes. Soon, I will slow down, and take a short break for water before I turn around. The street here is mostly more of the same – standardized architecture from the 1950's, neighborhoods past their prime with mature trees shading yellowing lawns. I've passed a small park with a playground, and seen evidence of a fair number of children. I've also seen houses that are clearly occupied by students, and some discretely advertising rooms for rent. I have always had a good eye for detail, and an excellent memory. My mind absorbs the specifics even as I think about other matters.

I had a strange dream last night. I was seated at a desk with an open laptop computer, in an octagonal room with glass walls. There was a door directly behind me. There was a DOS prompt on the screen, and nothing else: "INPUT LOCATION:" and a flashing cursor. I am usually very lucid in these types of dreams, though my memory can be selective. I knew I was dreaming, and I tried to answer the prompt accordingly. I tried several variations of Portland, Oregon, but was rewarded only with "INVALID ENTRY", and a new location prompt. Once it was clearly not a matter of syntax, I tried some other more literal descriptions – desk, glass room – with no more success.

When I was on Nas Unara, one of the ways in which I became more self-aware was through my dreams. It was subconscious communication. They were always very vivid, and memorable. I hadn't even realized, before I started dreaming, that I was missing memories, and that so many years of my life had been cut off. Without them, I would never have remembered Anna. It seems at times as though I spent more time discovering myself than I did discovering that world. The dreams were sometimes memories, but they were just as often obscure metaphors that would also occupy my waking mind. This dream reminded me of those.

Eventually, I entered the word 'dream' into the prompt.
<dream>: LOCATION ACCEPTED.
<dream>: INPUT DESTINATION
<dream>:

I never got further. I couldn't find, or figure out, what it was looking for. It would not accept physical places or persons. Invalid parameters. In the end, I sabotaged further attempts with a test – I typed 'wake up', and I did. It was 3h37. It took me some time to fall back asleep, but I think next time I need to focus on the internal. It seems more consistent with previous dreams of this type, and I'm sure I will have it again.

The whole experience has brought back other memories of my time out in the Void, trying to figure out where I was, how I'd got there, and what my purpose there was, while trying to sort myself out at the same time. It was difficult, but if I had never been taken away from Earth, I would never have questioned anything, just gone on working as an operative until something went wrong on assignment… and that would be the end. I never would have expected there to be anything more in life than following and fulfilling orders. It was flat, but at the time it seemed satisfying. Now I know that I am empty, and my expectations are higher. I can't seem to find a way to meet them.

What if Anna rejects me, in the end? I can't say that our conversations have made me happy. Is this the right course of action? I suspect that there is someone else in her life, but I have no basis for that belief. She will tell me in time. I'm not even sure what I think of that. Rationally, I know that she is trying to raise our son on her own, and that Anna is neither solitary nor independent by nature. She is happier when she is helping others, and she gets lonely easily. She is attractive, kind, and sincere. Perceived as a young widow, how could she fail to attract attention, sympathy and affection? Perhaps I simply assume there must be someone else in her life because I can't imagine how there couldn't be.

I'm not sure if I am even really jealous. I want her to be happy, and feel guilt at upsetting her, and abandoning her. I don't believe that I am capable of loving her at this stage, but I know that I did in the past. It is hard to remember what that was like, and what all it entailed. Right now, I can say that I care more for her happiness than for mine, and that I generally care for her at some level. I have an emotional bond with her, and to a lesser extent with Danny, although I have never met him and know little about him. I don't know that I need, or want, her to love me, but I need her to help me explore this. I think that after our last conversation she will be willing to at least stay in contact, even if she never does meet me in person.

I don't know what to do with the rest of my life.

I have reached the planned halfway point in my run, at four miles, in twenty eight minutes. The old neighborhoods have given way to a slightly more modern industrial landscape, with large warehouses surrounded by wide lawns. There are a number of shipping companies here, and the air smells of chemical processes. I have driven through here before, but the perspective is always slightly different on foot. I slow my pace slightly, and take a long drink from my water bottle before turning around. The perspective is also different coming back the other way. Every method of approach presents its own landmarks and reference points, and I will pay equal attention to these differences on my way back. Perception is always relative.