chords on existence

[fka notes on existence, fka notes on the world]

i was using a hand-crank can opener and i  reacted or remarked perhpas, about the touch , the grip, the way in which one hand makes some action while the other has it's own business in order.  rotation, pressure, cogs doing stuff or is that sprockets? 
what i thought to myself is the good feeling i have about the blades of a can opener. the circular sort. like those on an electric opener or the nice hand-cranker i have.  i do appreciate the p-38 and b-52 (military can openers that cramp the hand and take forever but are neat bits as well) but i love the way in which those two circles work together to open up metal lids.  i also like the key in old cans of, say, spam.  i liked twisting those keys to get that metal off of there. these tools and dyanimcs of use are marvelous.

there was a girl in my life (no name here for dramatic stuff and mystery winks) that i can't say i "loved" because it was more connective than "just" "love" it was neat stuff what i felt for her.  i still feel it.  but i still feel all kinds of things for all persons i meet. i am a bit of everyone i meet whether that sounds agreeable or not, that's what i sense and observe.

anyway, together but with her influence, we found this can opener and it's a miraculous thing. we found it at target, and actually she had one herself in the lands she occupied. since then the model has remained but the design has changed.  which is what happens but the comfort shapes have been lost. i guess this puts an even finer point on the experience the opener and i and she are bound to. i do not need the opener or any artifact to feel, but momentos do help the memory, especially mine.  so much stuff flying around in my head makes some stuff difficult to remember.  but my emotions, my feelings, they have a kind of memory that sounds true like a beacon despite concrete fogs.

i look at my fingers, my hands, and i can feel love in them. what they touch transfers and interprets those partials and familiar. perhaps my gift is my isolation. perspective is intense "there." i am not lost to my own rattles and recycled thoughts. perhaps i may be lost someday, but i manage somewhat to temper the edge for now. but finding company in my surround does not diminish the silvered mirror. in fact the glimmer is sharper and clear.

there are many things i've written since my last consistent posts. i have not published them here, perhaps i will retro-post, maybe not. i post some stuff on facebook, some on flickr, some only exist on shell-emails, or in exchanges with the various persons i am priveledged to interact with.

if you are intrigued by this, find yourself here, for whatever reason, maybe stick around or exchange some of yer own experiences with me.  if not me, then someone.  the world needs you.