![]() ![]() I think it is often so that those most in need of change choose to fall in love and then throw up their hands and blame it all on fate. or is it that the life itself was already worn out? I had finished with that life, perhaps, and could not admit it, being stubborn or afraid, or perhaps did not known it, habit being a great binder. Such a sacrifice must be the result of love. To alter everything that makes sense to me and to move into a different world where the only known will be the beloved. On more than one occasion I have been ready to abandon my whole life for love. "But you're close enough to see my point. "I'm spouting too much sense for you to understand," Bast said testily. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Chronicler snapped. "Suddenly the story she tells herself in her own head changes. It is hard, very hard, but when she truly believes you." Bast gestured excitedly. You make mirrors of your eyes, prayers of your hands against her body. She knows that beauty lies in your beholding." Bast gave a grudging shrug. If you tell her she's beautiful, she'll think you're sweet, but she won't believe you. We build ourselves out of that story."įrowning, Chronicler opened his mouth, but Bast held up a hand to stop him. "It's like everyone tells a story about themselves inside their own head. ![]() "That's only the smallest piece of it," Bast said. You dress a beggar in fine clothes, people treat him like a noble, and he lives up to their expectations." We all become what we pretend to be."Ĭhronicler relaxed a bit, sensing familiar ground. We understand how dangerous a mask can be. Every Fae child knows this, but you mortals never seem to see. "You see, there's a fundamental connection between seeming and being. The goosegirl dresses like a countess and everyone is stunned by her grace and charm." He hesitated, struggling to find the words he wanted. "And the boy becomes a better king than the original. "Is that the one where the king sells his crown to an orphan boy?"īast nodded. "How about plays? Have you seen The Ghost and the Goosegirl or The Ha'penny King?"Ĭhronicler frowned. Pretend you are a dog like me and listen to other people rather than steal their stories.Ĭhronicler shook his head and Bast gave a frustrated sigh. So my initial conversational gambit - that I had a funny story about being chased by my neighbor's dog - would be totally lost, and only because you had to tell me all about Pele. For instance, if we met at a party and I wanted to tell you a story about the time I needed to get a soccer ball in my neighbor's yard but his dog chased me and I had to jump into a swimming pool to escape, and I began telling the story, you, hearing the words "soccer" and "neighbor" in the same sentence, might interrupt and mention that your childhood neighbor was Pele, the famous soccer player, and I might be courteous and say, Didn't he play for the Cosmos of New York? Did you grow up in New York? And you might reply that, no, you grew up in Brazil on the streets of Tres Coracoes with Pele, and I might say, I thought you were from Tennessee, and you might say not originally, and then go on to outline your genealogy at length. It's like being a passenger in your car who suddenly grabs the steering wheel and turns you down a side street. People, if you pay attention to them, change the direction of one another's conversations constantly. I never deflect the course of the conversation with a comment of my own. It will never end, for madness carves its own reality. Everything previously moving with the grain is now against- you are irritable, angry, frightened, uncontrollable, and enmeshed totally in the blackest caves of the mind. Humor and absorption on friends' faces are replaced by fear and concern. The fast ideas are far too fast, and there are far too many overwhelming confusion replaces clarity. Feelings of ease, intensity, power, well-being, financial omnipotence, and euphoria pervade one's marrow. Sensuality is pervasive and the desire to seduce and be seduced irresistible. There are interests found in uninteresting people. Shyness goes, the right words and gestures are suddenly there, the power to captivate others a felt certainty. The ideas and feelings are fast and frequent like shooting stars, and you follow them until you find better and brighter ones. There is a particular kind of pain, elation, loneliness, and terror involved in this kind of madness. ![]()
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