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Written in the evening
Jun. 23rd, 2009 08:06 pmI grow weary of the search and I wonder what that means. I owe Einrich to keep up the search. I am incomplete without him. He must wherever he is be incomplete also. But-
but.
I returned to the Nexus today, to rest. To recover. I feel my mortality upon me sometimes. I will have a long time ahead still, but without some alteration I fear the time ahead may be less then the time behind and that is not a place in my life I wish to be. Must work to correct that. I don't know if I can, alone.
I asked a question that did not provide the answer I was looking for but it brought other things as worthy. I may have a job ahead, the commissioning of a heart. For ordinary blood, for an old man. If I get the job I will have to find a surgeon of skill enough to implement it. I think I have the desterity for the manufacture of the heart itself, and can find others to make whatever portions I cannot. A heart for ordinary blood can be lighter, gentler then mine. I would not cheat him out of a good heart but I hope to make him understand, when I meet him, that it will not be as heavy a piece of work as mine.
There was a lady, not human, of unusual blood and unusual tolerance. She was very nice to talk to. I hope to meet her again. If I am given the job I will be close to the Nexus for a while, so perhaps.
Also there was Miss Branigan. I am invited to tea tomorrow. Probably not like at Death's yellow house on the hill. Not at all. But we spoke of imbalances and the loss of my hands and my magic with them. And I wonder. But.
I am Einrich's greatest work of art, a being altered and a work in progress, always. I am not the man who entered into partnership with him as a young man. In seeking perfection an internal balance is achieved or at least sought after. Internal, not external. Perhaps we are held apart by greater forces. Perhaps our partnership has been somehow dissolved by the shifts within ourselves. If I find him again (If not when?) will we still balance?
Will he hurt me again?
I miss him. Why do i still miss him so?
but.
I returned to the Nexus today, to rest. To recover. I feel my mortality upon me sometimes. I will have a long time ahead still, but without some alteration I fear the time ahead may be less then the time behind and that is not a place in my life I wish to be. Must work to correct that. I don't know if I can, alone.
I asked a question that did not provide the answer I was looking for but it brought other things as worthy. I may have a job ahead, the commissioning of a heart. For ordinary blood, for an old man. If I get the job I will have to find a surgeon of skill enough to implement it. I think I have the desterity for the manufacture of the heart itself, and can find others to make whatever portions I cannot. A heart for ordinary blood can be lighter, gentler then mine. I would not cheat him out of a good heart but I hope to make him understand, when I meet him, that it will not be as heavy a piece of work as mine.
There was a lady, not human, of unusual blood and unusual tolerance. She was very nice to talk to. I hope to meet her again. If I am given the job I will be close to the Nexus for a while, so perhaps.
Also there was Miss Branigan. I am invited to tea tomorrow. Probably not like at Death's yellow house on the hill. Not at all. But we spoke of imbalances and the loss of my hands and my magic with them. And I wonder. But.
I am Einrich's greatest work of art, a being altered and a work in progress, always. I am not the man who entered into partnership with him as a young man. In seeking perfection an internal balance is achieved or at least sought after. Internal, not external. Perhaps we are held apart by greater forces. Perhaps our partnership has been somehow dissolved by the shifts within ourselves. If I find him again (If not when?) will we still balance?
Will he hurt me again?
I miss him. Why do i still miss him so?
