acquiescence of sorts


Boy, this is just not working out, is it? It has always been my fatal flaw to stay long after the party has ended, so let’s not act surprised that I’m finally speaking the truth. We were never married – can you imagine? – but it sure felt like it, and the promises I made to you have been repaid nine times over. And you’re not even real, you’ve only ever had the power I gave you.

They always say “people came between us”, and while that’ll always induce a groan, the only thing worse than a cliché is a cliché that is true.

You can never say when you stop caring. Or can you? I think of it as a maple tree that turns color – it’s gradual, but one day it’s obviously autumn. It happens slowly all at once. There is a holiday called Epiphany, which is tomorrow in the Eastern Churches, but when something can no longer be denied, you must celebrate it today.

I am not one to sit around and bemoan the things that could have been; that’s a habit I lost in my twenties. But I can reserve a few sour grapes of wrath for the person who ruined it for us. They did it cheaper and faster, and what was once a phase has now become a trait.

We could have had meals, but now all you want to do is snack. Give yourself enough distractions and perhaps you can put off finding who you really are indefinitely. The person who cares least always wins, which guarantees I’ll lose those battles every time.



31 thoughts on “acquiescence of sorts

  1. CM

    I agree with Karin. I was worried for a moment, but maybe you’re just pissed off at one of your friends. Please don’t give up blogging!
    I see the deer.
    That last line, well, you’ve inspired me to listen to a certain hit song by a piano playing dude from North Carolina…

  2. LFMD

    I am still here. . . reading and listening every day. I stopped commenting regularly when I realized that I was sharing more of my thoughts and opinions with you and the xtcian folks than I was sharing with my own family. . . . and that was a problem. I am thinking of deleting my Facebook account for the same reason. I am a hermit by nature, and communicating with people online only makes me disengage from my real life more and more.
    Anyway. . . .hope you keep blogging.

  3. Lara

    I read every day. I just have trouble coming up with something interesting and original to say and I don’t like to just echo previous commentators. Like I am now. But I really hope you don’t stop.

  4. ally

    Oh please no, don’t let this be a blogging farewell.
    Blogs are the parlour recitations, the handwritten letters, the vinyl record collections, the lengthy New Yorker articles, the slow vanishing of the slow, of today. I would be very sorry to see this site I’ve been reading and savouring for so many years disappear.

  5. Anonymous

    I’ve been meaning to ask where you have been. I have missed reading your comments. I don’t know you but I think I was at UNC at the same time as you. (I don’t have a facebook account, so I won’t notice there.)

  6. bev

    i don’t see it as a blog farewell, i see it as working out demons. without having to name demons out loud. i can relate!!

  7. Griffeth

    We don’t know each other. I’m just a guy who was at UNC the same time as you who enjoyed the Wednesday’s Child column and was happy to discover this blog. I check in daily and post almost never, but the nebulous dissatisfaction of this entry struck a nerve. I don’t know your target or intention, but I recognize the sentiment.
    This is a nice little community here, regardless of its place among the Facebooks and Twitters of the world. Never underestimate the power – and comfort – of shared experience, though, no matter how indistinct or nebulous in its own right. To your frustration, I offer only this: the world will always be peopled with schmucks and trolls. But not exclusively.

  8. LFMD

    Hi David! Thanks for thinking of me. I was at UNC 1986-90. . . a lifetime ago.
    Ian – the best reason to maintain your blog is Lucy. I started one for my daughter when she was little, but I have not written on it in at least 4 years, and I wish that I had continued. Having this blog will be a wonderful treasure for her over the years.

  9. CM

    I was missing your comments too, LFMD!
    It constantly amazes me how many lurkers crop up to announce themselves and sound like such interesting people…I really would like to meet some of them someday.

  10. Clay

    I have no idea what this blog entry is about. But if the comments to the blog are close to accurate, then I am mystified at the contempt Ian suddenly has for his audience. I have read this blog for years, first drawn to it because I so appreciated Ian’s writing in the Daily Tar Heel in the 80s. Ian is such a gifted writer. I truly admire him. And I would be so grateful if people were reading my blog, even silently. An audience, any audience, is a precious gift. That should be enough.
    But I hope the speculation here is incorrect.

  11. Kaarin

    Ian, I too hope you aren’t signing off. I have enjoyed your blog over the past couple of years since I discovered it. Admittedly, I did find it through Facebook, but I click over often when you post to hear what you have to say.
    (I picture us all here in the arena, lighters aloft, clapping and hoping the band comes back… )

  12. Ian

    Wow, somebody please remind me not to post a cri de coeur about a subject and then not have internet access all day.
    In the interests of keeping this from being a “vaguebooking” clamor for affirmation, I truly was not fishing for compliments or petulantly hinting at taking my toys and going home. I do hope that if I start acting like that, you will follow Clay’s lead and humbly point out my douchebaggery. I’m sorry for the lack of clarity, but I get carried away with ze metaphors, n’est-ce pas?
    You folks are incredibly sweet for saying nice things. And the truth is, I am a little lost as to how I should proceed with these pages. Y’all weren’t wrong, I was somewhat talking about where my little lectern sits in relation to the behemoths of the social media world, but I was musing far more broadly, not even about blogs in particular, but also journalism, and other media currently in a death spiral. It’s more about the promise of community that the internet keeps breaking, but that’s for a blog I should write after the holiday…

  13. Tanya

    Well I LOVE the fact that you are doing something so “Old Fashioned” as keeping a current blog. This little (maybe not-so-little?) community is fantastic. it’s like an ever-evolving group of friends and acquaintances gathering together at a coffee shop or under a huge oak tree at Polk Place on campus. You never know who will be there, but you know the converstation will be good. Be “relevant” and “current” and all that other super-hip, cutting edge stuff somewhere else, but relax, let your hair down and come settle in with us a few times a week. Not everthing in your life has to be break-neck.

  14. carolyn

    let’s have a xtcian blog lurker/reader/friend happy hours in venice.
    it would be an interesting social experiment.
    i’m serious.

  15. Joanna

    For me, what Lara said. And now that I realize I’m one of the more clueless, less creative thinkers in the bunch, I’m even less likely to comment. I will be lurking nonetheless!

  16. kmeelyon

    I always fantasize you’ll invite your readers to the Jartacular. But I understand that could be a bit overwhelming. But maybe not the first year. Maybe it could be a little bit like SXSW before the crowds made it lame.

  17. Anne

    I’ve been sucked into the instant gratification of Facebook tomfoolery for a year or more. And yes, I come here far less often. I used to start every day, EVERY day literally, by reading XTCIAN right after getting online. Ever since Coastopia. I also used to blog semi-regularly. Now, it’s like maybe twice a year.
    Fie. I resolve to read blogs more and maybe even return to writing them. Also, the comments on this blog are always fabulous and make me feel good about people’s intelligence, sensibilities and overall greatness.


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