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	Date: Sept. 29, 2019
	Location: Comfortable Recliner
	Mood: Lost in a Hazy Landscape
	Music: the volume settings folder - Hamlets
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	Lately I've been thinking back on a short story I wrote months and
months ago. I don't tend to write much prose, I focus more on the spontaneity
and freeform nature of my poetry to convey my feelings and ideas. It's
because of this relative lack of prose that I wanted to work on something
more concrete. The project I've been working on recently that scratches that
itch is called "In Morning Song". It's supposed to be a collage of fictional
interviews, documents, journals, and descriptions that tells a more linear
story, not something so winding and abstract as the "story" behind my piece
"Aviary", which appears in my poetry collection, "Babylon Effect".

	But before I ever started working on "In Morning Song", or even had
any idea for the project, I wrote something called "Love Dissolves".

	"Love Dissolves" was meant to be a playful title, unsure of whether
the love in question was doing the dissolving, or dissolving itself. The
story is short and focuses on two characters in a relationship, going about
a "normal" weekday. It hints at darker events in the recent past that has
left both characters feeling sad and lost, but tries to show how their
mutual love for one another has kept them afloat in those hard times.

	And lately I've been thinking back on that idea. About how I wrote
"Love Dissolves" as a kind of proof of concept for "realistic" love. Not
necessarily "real" love, but "idealistic" love, a kind of love that I had
not experienced before. But one that I desired, nonetheless.

	My mind has a nasty habit of wandering into these thoughts about
love, always thinking back on failed relationships, wondering if I can
actually love someone, if they can love me, etc. Some high school level
drama, it feels particularly childish. But it keeps repeating back on
itself like a wheel running me over.

	And so I come back to this story I wrote, wondering, "What does
love mean to someone like me? Is it what I wrote here many months ago?"
And I think a more important question in my growth out of adolescence is
"Which character am I?"

	In the story, Harrison is an office worker who seems to carry most
of the emotional burden as the day progresses. He seems brooding, lost in
his thoughts, desensitized to his surroundings at times. On the other hand,
his partner Jo is more carefree on the surface. More extroverted and
willing to help Harrison, show him proper love and care. But both
characters have doubts and issues dealing with sadness alone. The story is
meant to harness their symbiotic relationship.

	But I am only one person.

	Who am I now? Am I Harrison, or Jo?

	And who do I want to be?

	...

	If you're interested in reading this short story, I've included a
link to a plain text version of it under this phlog post. Feel free to let
me know what you think. Send me an email at nynergy@sdf.org

	Thanks.
	- Ben