Re: postcard: castor & pollux.
[another one of the colored drawings comes back and, with it, a note.]
Pollux,
I think so. Or maybe a simpler one? It's hard to say looking back whether or not it was "better" or more wholesome. Maybe I've just got some rose tinted glasses. I think we do change though. I know I've seen it, even if I would feel more comfortable saying it happens more with individuals than as a collective, but I hold out hope.
Anyone who's ever told you happiness is just a thing that happened? I'm sorry Pollux, but I think that's a bold faced lie you. Happiness takes a lot of work. Personal work to understand what makes you happy, physical work to cultivate more of it in your life, and those two things are just the tip of the iceberg. I'm sorry if that comes off harsh, but I've never met anyone who just fell into being happy and got to stay that way, an I don't think it matters what part of life we're talking about. Career, self, romance, whatever, it all takes work to be happy in those things and that work has to be done honestly. There are not shortcuts on the road to happiness.
If there were, I'd point them out to you. I promise. I think you're right about magic though. And maybe that's what I want to believe in more than anything? I don't know. I've never really put a name to it or tried before. I used to think maybe I was just superstitious or paranoid, but I slept better believing in something rather than nothing and that was enough for me.
Why would that be a surprise? Does that kind of thing make you happy? Does it bring you satisfaction? Why do you do it?
I like just about everything on pizza. No pineapple. No sea creatures really. It doesn't matter how much I like anchovies, I don't think they have any business on a pizza. Too salty. I think my favorite is probably chicken, bacon, and spinach with Alfredo sauce. What do you like, besides pineapple?
And what do you mean by powerful? Magical? Physical? Powerful can mean a lot of things.
As for my memory? I think it was the first time I ever got my own place. I've always liked moving into a new place, the process of unpacking and looking at all your things, figuring out where they go and how to make the space yours. I remember really enjoying figuring out how to setup my kitchen and cooking my first meal to sit down with the person I was seeing at the time. I remember being really proud of the pizza I made, even if I did burn the shit out of it. It became something we laughed about for a long time and sometimes I still find myself laughing about when food goes wrong.
Speaking of which, don't apologize for the meatloaf please. Cooking it is supposed to be fun, which means really it accomplished it's primary objective. Did you try any of it, did you like the way it tastes? Keep trying at it and when you get to the point you're happy with it, you let me know and I'll come over for dinner.
Do you still feel that same sense of possibility here?
Yours, Castor.
P.S. Once again, not the first to say it, probably not the last, and it's a very true statement.