Floating

So. You know some of this. Because I have trouble not talking about it. I can't not not talk about it. That's a step away from the irreperable. Says Agamben. If I'm remembering correctly, you enter the irreperable when you can not not do something. And so you do it in a certain way. The ethically, politically right way. Agamben is a little full of himself. But I think he might be right.

T and I have had this thing with B. I think it will have been irreperable. And I think it will be a major friendship. For all of us. For each of us. And precisely in that fluctuation between the all and the each. Will lie whatever greatness it will have. We're currently working through a snag. That has to do with the desire for possession. B, I think, kept his in check. Because. For him. I am T's. And he might have wanted. Me to be his. For all intents and purposes. I am T's. Because of the force of history. Because of what just happened in Berlin. Because I wrote about it. Because we have and will continue to meet our need for each other. But. There is this thing. About triangulation. That unmoors possession. That can also exacerbate the desire for it. Even when it is what is impossible. Possession. Which isn't to say that it doesn't happen all the time. Like you said. "what i didn't say was she was inside me." That'll happen quite unbeknownst to us. And then all of a sudden you find someone there.

Sunday night we were unmoored. Hercules and Love Affair was in town. B was on the cusp of a love affair with M. Who was there. And is really very very sexy. B fretted about it with us. Put his head on my shoulder. We still had the crazy and beautiful idea. That we were going to go on vacation in Croatia. Loll in the sun. Read cook and talk. Swim. It's not going to happen. Now that the desire for possession has reared its monstrous head. The desire for possession. For something we will never entirely have. Someone else. That desire is monstrous. It shows us up for what we are. Weak beautiful humans who want nothing more than to be more than what our weakness, beauty and humanity make of us. Maybe I'm going over the top. Saying all this. But. Something about that triangular situation. Shows us up for the monsters we are. And. If you're like me and a little worked over by it. Which you are even if you don't admit it to yourself. And if you're lucky enough to come across the right wonderful people to explore it with. Triangulation demands that we do something else with our monstrosity. Besides just letting it overtake us. Something like showing it for what it is. And loving it.

We were on our way on Sunday night. Dancing!! Nomi was twirling around in a dress lined with fringes. B, the next day: "I want a dress with fringes. To turn around and around and around in." It all felt fragile. And collective. Full of rhythm. New. And nice. There was something floating in between us. Putting us just beyond ourselves. Right beside ourselves and each other. And then. The next day. I wanted details about B and M's night. I asked for it. And said so when it made my stomach churn. It was my desire for possession rearing its head. Just after its having become unmoored. And that's what was strange about it. We'd just gotten to this wonderful floating, undetermined, unmoored stage. And nothing seemed scary. Or wrong. It all just felt real. As real as was the bile that started rolling in my tummy when I realized I was jealous. Me! And I told him to have fun. To take advantage of it. And I told him that it hurt me to say so. And I had to let go of what had only just barely begun to start floating between the three of us just the night before. That was hard. Monday was a shitty night. Plus? T was in Milan. At least I had Joan as Police Woman for company.

Tuesday was rough. B and I cried. Or reported tears. In skype. We find this amazing rhythm in our skype conversations every once in a while. Tuesday was one of those times. He gave me just what I needed to hear. At that moment. Which was his desire to possess me. At the very moment he was relinquishing acting on it. He hadn't said so before. It's been said. It is consecrated. It is impossible. And it is going to be the basis for whatever is destined to come between us in the future. That's ambiguous and I think it's right. Things like this come between us. They're the stumbling blocks that make us who we are. That feed desires, pains and joys. That become who we are as we become what our existence makes of us. And what we make of our existence.

I fretted over the fact that this entry didn't have a conclusion. Duh. Things are just getting started. I'm a whore for grace. And? I'm a whore for beginnings, too. Especially ones strong enough to become something else. Something else. You know. Out of this world. And keeping us in it here and now.