now I see your face before me, it would launch a thousand ships
There are two of these planned. Oh, joy.
Also, my non-Caledonian home is on one of the proposed new Linden road routes! That map section really sinks it home for me--Rivula is, nearly has to be, one of the first hundred sims or so. Wild.
It would explain some things...
there's a letter on the desktop
that I dug out of a drawer
the last truce we ever came to
in our adolescent war
and I start to feel the fever
from the warm air through the screen
you come regular like seasons
shadowing my dreams...
Some experiences can only happen once. Some things are meant to be consigned to memory, and not commemorated. This lesson I knew, or thought I did; I didn't think I needed to learn it again.
Last year on Beltane, there was love and beauty, wonder and delight. Last year I honored my gods in all sweet ways, with dance and merry heart, with passion and devotion true. Perhaps it's only justice, now, that this year there was pain and aching, nostalgic regret and odd longing. I spent most of the night in quiet contemplation, or discussing my life of late with the wandering kitten, who picked tonight to wander back in to Rivula to see me.
Oddly, he hasn't changed. I have, though. And several times he asked, how was I getting by without him? "Not that you need me or anything," he said. Unintentioned dart through me, but I smiled through it.
He mentioned, walking around the changed landscape, that Rivula still felt like home. I agreed with him. As much as I adore Caledon...Rivula was my first home on the grid. It may always feel like that. He told me as much, as I pointed out changes that had altered the landscape he, we, remembered.
We talked of homes and loves as we walked, loss and change, people he knew, people he didn't. We talked of the year past, and forgetting things, and remembering too much.
We talked of us. The conversation kept circling out and back again. I walked him to the small store across from the relocated StarGate, and I pointed out the Boomtown advertisement I'd kept up until Boomtown was ordered, and delivered.
I waited until he left before taking it down, but he was impressed. He remembered Steelhead fondly, the dances, with me and with others, the lay of the land, the heart of the people. He was rather amazed to hear it was a trio, now, not simply a singular sim. He was glad to hear of its success.
It's been some time since I saw him. I didn't expect it to ache this much.
there are days when I swear I could fly like an eagle
and dark desperate hours that nobody sees
my arms stretched triumphant on top of the mountain
my head in my hands, down on my knees...
For reasons not even her husband understands, my landlord's wife has raised a giant Moai head in the corner of Rivula. My landlord took me to see it, and I watched as he scattered seeds for wandering flowers and ferns at its base. We watched them bloom and shift as night turned to morning, idly discussing Beltanes past, and the yearly Beltane dance I had decided not to attend, and the Consulate dance in Kittiwickshire I had decided not to attend, either.
Too many complications. Too much lost love on the air. I admitted I wasn't strong enough to go on my own, and he offered to accompany me. I did consider it, but decided, in the end, against it. Maybe there were larger reasons I was spending tonight mostly alone.
I wanted to revel tonight, dance in the year change, feel the season shimmer over my skin once more, alight in the fire's heat. I had a night of quiet contemplation, instead, spent mostly alone. Was it what I wanted? No.
But it may have been what I needed. Perhaps this year was shoring up, breathing through losses, readjusting to new life in new patterns. Perhaps I honor the gods this year by remembering I loved, and did not lose all love simply because I chose another path. Perhaps that's enough.
it's time now--to sing out
though the story never ends
let's celebrate
remember a life in the year of friends--
Ah, well. Next year for revelry...Perhaps that's justice, too.
(The song lyrics used are from the second stanza of "Ghost" by Indigo Girls [version used for link is from the Harvard-Radcliffe Veritones' performance of the song at their 20th Anniversary Concert, featuring Karen Adelman on solo, Kathleen Maguire on harmony], the second stanza of "Sometimes It's a Bitch" by Stevie Nicks; and the eighth stanza of Seasons of Love from the musical Rent.)
Also, my non-Caledonian home is on one of the proposed new Linden road routes! That map section really sinks it home for me--Rivula is, nearly has to be, one of the first hundred sims or so. Wild.
It would explain some things...
there's a letter on the desktop
that I dug out of a drawer
the last truce we ever came to
in our adolescent war
and I start to feel the fever
from the warm air through the screen
you come regular like seasons
shadowing my dreams...
Some experiences can only happen once. Some things are meant to be consigned to memory, and not commemorated. This lesson I knew, or thought I did; I didn't think I needed to learn it again.
Last year on Beltane, there was love and beauty, wonder and delight. Last year I honored my gods in all sweet ways, with dance and merry heart, with passion and devotion true. Perhaps it's only justice, now, that this year there was pain and aching, nostalgic regret and odd longing. I spent most of the night in quiet contemplation, or discussing my life of late with the wandering kitten, who picked tonight to wander back in to Rivula to see me.
Oddly, he hasn't changed. I have, though. And several times he asked, how was I getting by without him? "Not that you need me or anything," he said. Unintentioned dart through me, but I smiled through it.
He mentioned, walking around the changed landscape, that Rivula still felt like home. I agreed with him. As much as I adore Caledon...Rivula was my first home on the grid. It may always feel like that. He told me as much, as I pointed out changes that had altered the landscape he, we, remembered.
We talked of homes and loves as we walked, loss and change, people he knew, people he didn't. We talked of the year past, and forgetting things, and remembering too much.
We talked of us. The conversation kept circling out and back again. I walked him to the small store across from the relocated StarGate, and I pointed out the Boomtown advertisement I'd kept up until Boomtown was ordered, and delivered.
I waited until he left before taking it down, but he was impressed. He remembered Steelhead fondly, the dances, with me and with others, the lay of the land, the heart of the people. He was rather amazed to hear it was a trio, now, not simply a singular sim. He was glad to hear of its success.
It's been some time since I saw him. I didn't expect it to ache this much.
there are days when I swear I could fly like an eagle
and dark desperate hours that nobody sees
my arms stretched triumphant on top of the mountain
my head in my hands, down on my knees...
For reasons not even her husband understands, my landlord's wife has raised a giant Moai head in the corner of Rivula. My landlord took me to see it, and I watched as he scattered seeds for wandering flowers and ferns at its base. We watched them bloom and shift as night turned to morning, idly discussing Beltanes past, and the yearly Beltane dance I had decided not to attend, and the Consulate dance in Kittiwickshire I had decided not to attend, either.
Too many complications. Too much lost love on the air. I admitted I wasn't strong enough to go on my own, and he offered to accompany me. I did consider it, but decided, in the end, against it. Maybe there were larger reasons I was spending tonight mostly alone.
I wanted to revel tonight, dance in the year change, feel the season shimmer over my skin once more, alight in the fire's heat. I had a night of quiet contemplation, instead, spent mostly alone. Was it what I wanted? No.
But it may have been what I needed. Perhaps this year was shoring up, breathing through losses, readjusting to new life in new patterns. Perhaps I honor the gods this year by remembering I loved, and did not lose all love simply because I chose another path. Perhaps that's enough.
it's time now--to sing out
though the story never ends
let's celebrate
remember a life in the year of friends--
Ah, well. Next year for revelry...Perhaps that's justice, too.
(The song lyrics used are from the second stanza of "Ghost" by Indigo Girls [version used for link is from the Harvard-Radcliffe Veritones' performance of the song at their 20th Anniversary Concert, featuring Karen Adelman on solo, Kathleen Maguire on harmony], the second stanza of "Sometimes It's a Bitch" by Stevie Nicks; and the eighth stanza of Seasons of Love from the musical Rent.)
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