Clarity in Amsterdam, Part Five.

Continuing writings from travel about a year ago...

02/07/07 UPDATE: This piece was originally in five parts, but I've made changes and will be posting another part (maybe two) soon...

PART ONE
PART TWO
PART THREE
PART FOUR

We’re confessing our sins in a city of vice. A city of legalized vice. Terrifying and thrilling at the same. There’s shame, pleasure, guilt, abandon, and no answers. A drawn-out, hazy and muted catharsis that’s unlike the instantaneous, knee-buckling tears usually expected from an absolving event. We both want to be condemned by the other. We’re looking for disappointment from the opposite face, a frown, an unspoken judgment, a confirmation of guilt. With that, we could collapse, let the shame, anger, and loss pour out, and we could scream our pain with fists clenched and knives in our guts. Then, there would be comfort, a possibility of understanding, and hopefully forgiveness.

Instead, we skip straight to forgiveness and understanding. The mystique of our secrets drops its heavy load, yet clings because the soul cleansing didn’t quite pan out. There will be no condemnation, but there will be no full release of the past, either. Instead, there will be the friendship that always was; someone there when you need them most, not to guide or absolve, but simply to be present. There is hope and support there and answers will come on their own time. Yet this is still unsatisfying.

I haven’t found any direction, I haven’t discovered anything new, and I wonder if I’ve really helped myself or done anything with meaning or importance. I begin to think I’ve been looking for a mental quick-fix. I suspect I may have put all my emotional investment in the wrong place, that putting all my issues in the open with my closest friend won’t be the instant balm I wanted it to be. I wonder if there will be anything of significance to help me or if this is simply an aimless distraction that further obscures uglier truths. The latter seems more likely.

Nevertheless, after a healthy combination of hashish and hot chocolate, I did experience some things that certainly felt like meaning for me.

The shit will continue...

PART SIX
PART SEVEN