Episodes In, Outside of, but Never Out of the Smoke-Filled Coffee Shop: Love

Another day soon after that, I had quite an encounter. I was siting in the back of the Smoke-Filled Coffee shop mired in smoke and text. I was away in concepts, trying to move beyond them. A precocious student sat near me and decided he would do me a favor by imparting his knowledge on me. We chatted a bit and he asked what I was doing there. I told him I was mired in a sea of smoke and text, he nodded in understanding, or pseudo-understanding, or both--I couldn't tell. Anyway, he told me he had been learning about life as of late--of love and hurt, of eros and of passion. I said, "Great". He spoke some more.

"You see," he said "Augustine taught me that we all desire love. He also taught me that we all desire permanence. But, Augustine believed in a God I can't believe in, after all, 'God is dead', so I had to move on." Enthralled, I said, "Wow".

"Yes, so Marion taught me that the love and permanence we desire is not found in that old God of Augustine's. He taught me that actually it is found in the erotic desire and transcendence experienced with an-other."

Really excited now, I said "Didn't Augustine say something of memory?"

He replied eagerly, "Oh yes, he said the memory is a strange, strange thing. It is where God resides and doesn't. It is where the self resides and doesn't."

"And doesn't Marion say something of me?"

Jumping out of his seat now, "Oh yes, he says that me is given to me by the other. He says the only way I can be me is through the receiving of my-self from the other in the transcendence of the erotic."

"Hmm," I murmured. "I tell you what friend, maybe you can help me. I have a question about me and memory. You see, I wonder about those in my memory. The ones that I tried to love--the ones that tried to love me back. Where do they reside and why? I'd like to forget some of them, but can't. I'd like to misplace them, but it seems impossible. And, if they gave me me, can I ever be rid of them? What if I don't want to be the me they gave me? I'm just confused. It seems like they reside in my memory and give me a me I am not sure I want anymore. How does the hurt linger so deep and so long? And, how can I forget something I not only remember, but which is so essential in making me "me" even now?"

He thought for a minute, and then left.

Sitting in the back of the Smoke-Filled Coffee Shop, mired in a sea of text and smoke.