[An inexplicable occurrence, seething through the continuum, cutting and pasting, the universe's IT man, fucking with the rules, manipulating the cosmic programming, renders a circumstance, unforeseen and unnatural. Where does the time begin and end? Is time something we can even measure? Surely we must be able to calculate ORDER, right? How can such things come to pass? Where is the counter-balance that keeps Chaos in its natural stasis? But these musings amount to nothing in the light of this...]
Shit, I am getting old. I mean, I knew that already, but the changes of late have really painted it, hyper-realistic and saturated, on the wall of my life. Everything is sore. I can't see a damn thing. Everyone seems so young, so vital in comparison. The nearness of youth can do that, I suppose. Our reality is merely the contrasts we can measure with the subjective eye.
See, I got a new room-mate. I am not sure what to think of him yet. Seems, oh, I don't know, a good fit, I suppose, with me and my...acceptable reality. This whole sharing space thing isn't really new to me, I mean I have kids. But another adult (?), another male adult, in my space, sharing whatever wavelengths in my world, will take some getting used to.
You don't know him, so I suppose it best to, er, describe him. He's 19, a kid, really, but not a child, all innocence and fantasy. More a newly molted human animal, still trying to get used to the wings. Though he is young, I sense something strange in him, something older than he could possibly have inhabiting his psyche; a wisdom, the kind you get from pain, the acceptance that the world isn't quite as rosy as our parents might have made it seem when they still provided our daily necessities. I most often see this in people substantially older than he, people who have suffered, been to their own private hell and narrowly escaped, given to fits of laughter at those who toil through their simple lives, complaining about work, the kids, mates, taxes.
There is also something else about him that worries me a bit. He seems...unhinged. Unstable, as though he might just destroy everything around him in a fit of insane rage or cackling, wild-eyed glee. There is something of the animal in him, something base and feral, dangerous and devoid of the chains of empathy. And that seems oddly familiar. I have seen this before. A long time ago.
Oh, incidentally, his name is Jinx.
[Destabilized energy, cataclysm barely restrained, a sick sound like the heaving of metal and glass in an unstable skyscraper but with an unearthly pitch just under the surface...but not tangible, to speak of surfaces is merely to give it an understandable reference point, as describing the elementary Chaos inherent in quarks to a religious fanatic. It is hard to digest this disorder, this destruction of reality. the whine of complaint, time begging for normalcy, fluctuations...]
Yeah, so I kind of like this place. It's a little cramped, a bit too small for my predilections, but it will do. I don't know what to think of my room-mate. Seems pleasant enough, in a sharply rendered kind of way. Says some interesting things and has great taste in music, so the thing probably won't come undone with too much explosiveness. 'Course, he will probably try to molest me or something, or think he can order me around, and the whole thing will end in violence and screaming. He better not underestimate me. I'm not tall, I'm not muscular, but you will fucking KNOW you've been in a fight, old man.
Weird thing is, he seems really familiar. One of those people, I guess, that you feel inexplicably comfortable around. I feel like I have know him for a long time, like a character in a cherished novel, knowable and similar to some ideal, some icon, a personification of something, who knows what. Like Raoul Duke.
But there is something else, something behind his face, something incandescent and volatile, a burning thing. Rage? Pain? Fuck if I know. But this guy feels like he could wink out on me in a quick minute. But I can see that he is holding it back. Seems to have a good handle on it. I hope.
So begins my life with Geoff. We'll likely kill each other in some ritual of pain, but at least I'm not sleeping outside. And I can get away from the...weirdness outside the windows.
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