call•me•jonah

The one voice demands that i live in truth, the other that i live in romance. The one is loyal to the emperor Cranius and the other insurgent Heart. i confess my loyalties tend towards truth. something objectifiable and tangible. but i am not without my doubts. to live on impulse, to declare 'all for love' is an attractive lure and i in moments of untenable weakness have been known to bite. and briefly declare, if only in the corridors of my chest, that i am justified by art, by ideals, by impulse, by love for whatever action i take so long as it is true to my heart (or at least is not provably false). is it not those things we can't explain, those mistakes we recognize, those strides beyond reason that signify humanity, separating us from the machine and unifying us with nature.

yet.

this is reasonable. this is reasonable? even now. this is reasonable. king Cranius seems to have adopted a pseudonym and to lead the insurrection in disguise. he steps forward to defend his adversary. he is always in control, even when he lets the rebels run amok.


and what of truth? to hell with sentiment? shall i be a stoic? at times, yes. are there not rivers that should flow and rivers that should be dammed?

who are you truth? where shall i find you? should a friend ask my opinion of a photo he had taken, is my distaste of the photo truer than my desire for his happiness? ah! but should his happiness be more complete by my erroneous praise or my careful criticism? lead him to the truth, but lead him gently. a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down.


and what have you, romance, to do with this? you, subject to whim and fancy, what do you know of objectivity or balance?
you who threaten to reign by heartbeat flutter or coin flip, you stay far from the throne, you shall never be king. but here is a bedroom in a high tower of the palace. stay here a while. i may have need of you yet. for you know about the secret power of the senses. the crashing voice of wave on rock, the ephemeral twinkle of stars in the night sky. you understand that secret language unheard by ears, spoken beneath sound. you shall reign over the province of beauty. all that resides therein is thine. reason has no authority there.