1 November
1999
Todd called it a relic. Laine felt compelled to find out if I was trapped under something heavy. In other words... it's been a while. For me, it was like eating some rich, memorable food and then suddenly falling prey to stomach flu. Or hearing my favorite song at the same time that he decides to walk out of my life. Two polar opposites, burned on top of one another in my brain, making whirlygirl the last place I wanted be. The risk that comes with publicizing thoughts and ideas and wonders is something I was aware of, but hadn't tasted until a few weeks ago. I post the most cryptic phrases and allow you to riddle with them. I stroll backwards through journals and postcards, publishing the pure intensity of moments that sting less after considerable time. And you interpret. I'm reminded of senior rhetoric classes and reading a copy of Gibran borrowed from the library. "No message can be received in the same way it was intended." Instead it's forced through the individual's magnetic field of perspective and history and insecurity. And it comes out jumbled, like the teacher's voice in the Peanuts cartoons. And it's not what I was trying to say. But it's no less valid. And that's something I've been thinking about these last two weeks. Just how valid you are... and how cruel I can be. And what a risk this honesty is. What's got you thinking? biggest kiss... ...kristen |
|