think of the travelers
i've been implored to continue writing, to think of those traveling, in remote regions of the world, those who are curious as to what i am up to, or of those who are looking for a bit of sparkling adventure, to live vicariously through.
so at this, i am obliged to continue.
i think i've written before of the danger of writing. words come naturally to me, and i have more stories than i know what to do with, than i can even contain. but writing them, oh, the danger of writing...
though someday i feel, i will write them all. and perhaps in this regard, these writings are not so dangerous after all. anyway, only time can tell.
the recent.
jared november is back, throwing accusations of my sneaky manipulative nature again at me, pushing the buttons, firing me up. they say you only get defensive if what is being accused is true, and i think this is bullshit. if someone says something about me that i don't think is true, this is when i get upset. i try to be a good person, i have a general good will towards the world, and i can't understand what motivation could drive someone to see me as an enemy, as someone to guard against, as someone evil and wrong. the story of this one is a long and dramatic one, a big chapter in the sassafras history of dc. one i worked hard for, and got nothing out of. there will be a story, on this one for sure.
the tiger, also back. my grand love story from 2 years ago, is again in my space. touch and go, as it were. i called on friday and asked very normally if we might find some time to see each other soon. he said ok, saturday. and came by, stayed half an hour, then had to go. drives a new car. has the same face.. worn, weary, wild. and when he was over, you know... i have let it go in so many ways, have begun again to pursue other love possibilities, there was nothing i could do but move on.. and yet, and still when he is around, my heart beats hard. still when he is in my space, i can breath again. something about him. something i made him. in my mind, in my heart, in my soul... still there is little way to tell what is real. but its a step right? a step towards what remains to be seen.
i have a beautiful tall kandy kane. i'm struck on how to act with him, or where to take things. we have the most delicious physical interaction. its everything i want in that department, and this particular department is the reason i want a boyfriend, or significant other or anything like it. i want to deepen our bond. i want to grow and be a better person, i want to help him be that as well. but the tender interaction we have extends only once every so often in the early morning hours of our crazy late 20's weeks end lifesyles. and only when i stop waiting, only when i disengage from expectations to i get to have this beautiful hand brush my cheek in admiration, my little escape, his space to breathe, our shared pleasure driven secret paradise. but i don't own him, he doesn't have me, we have no ties outside of the here again gone again times that we have together. and so what, i wonder, am i to do with it? leave it alone... keep it this little sacred space or try to water the garden, little by precious little. is his function in my life to be regulated to side candy, or will he or could he be the main sweetener... i just don't know. i can't tell if i make him more lately because i am wanting this sweetness in my life, or if i am simply fond of him. if that is enough, just as it is.
there was a woman for a fleeting moment in the last few weeks. she infuriated me, the way that women are especially talented at doing. i won't get into the story of her unless she becomes more. for now, the plan is leave alone and lie low. however, should this start again.. the fire! watch out.
for a long time, there has been a book of poetry stirring in my mind. i want to title it, to all the boys i've ever known. maybe two books, in parallel. TATBIEK, and TATGIEK. one for boys, and one for girls. a poem each, or a series for those that have passed through my heart space, my body space, my head space....
its an interesting idea. but then caught here: my life all about and around the people that come in and go out. come again, go again. seems so silly, when you stand back and investigate this from a distance. what is she, really. what is this girl about? what is here other than all these outside people? what is this life, removed of all the distractions?
what are you really adding to my life?
when i stand back and look, when i really spend time looking.. there isn't much.
so at this, i am obliged to continue.
i think i've written before of the danger of writing. words come naturally to me, and i have more stories than i know what to do with, than i can even contain. but writing them, oh, the danger of writing...
though someday i feel, i will write them all. and perhaps in this regard, these writings are not so dangerous after all. anyway, only time can tell.
the recent.
jared november is back, throwing accusations of my sneaky manipulative nature again at me, pushing the buttons, firing me up. they say you only get defensive if what is being accused is true, and i think this is bullshit. if someone says something about me that i don't think is true, this is when i get upset. i try to be a good person, i have a general good will towards the world, and i can't understand what motivation could drive someone to see me as an enemy, as someone to guard against, as someone evil and wrong. the story of this one is a long and dramatic one, a big chapter in the sassafras history of dc. one i worked hard for, and got nothing out of. there will be a story, on this one for sure.
the tiger, also back. my grand love story from 2 years ago, is again in my space. touch and go, as it were. i called on friday and asked very normally if we might find some time to see each other soon. he said ok, saturday. and came by, stayed half an hour, then had to go. drives a new car. has the same face.. worn, weary, wild. and when he was over, you know... i have let it go in so many ways, have begun again to pursue other love possibilities, there was nothing i could do but move on.. and yet, and still when he is around, my heart beats hard. still when he is in my space, i can breath again. something about him. something i made him. in my mind, in my heart, in my soul... still there is little way to tell what is real. but its a step right? a step towards what remains to be seen.
i have a beautiful tall kandy kane. i'm struck on how to act with him, or where to take things. we have the most delicious physical interaction. its everything i want in that department, and this particular department is the reason i want a boyfriend, or significant other or anything like it. i want to deepen our bond. i want to grow and be a better person, i want to help him be that as well. but the tender interaction we have extends only once every so often in the early morning hours of our crazy late 20's weeks end lifesyles. and only when i stop waiting, only when i disengage from expectations to i get to have this beautiful hand brush my cheek in admiration, my little escape, his space to breathe, our shared pleasure driven secret paradise. but i don't own him, he doesn't have me, we have no ties outside of the here again gone again times that we have together. and so what, i wonder, am i to do with it? leave it alone... keep it this little sacred space or try to water the garden, little by precious little. is his function in my life to be regulated to side candy, or will he or could he be the main sweetener... i just don't know. i can't tell if i make him more lately because i am wanting this sweetness in my life, or if i am simply fond of him. if that is enough, just as it is.
there was a woman for a fleeting moment in the last few weeks. she infuriated me, the way that women are especially talented at doing. i won't get into the story of her unless she becomes more. for now, the plan is leave alone and lie low. however, should this start again.. the fire! watch out.
for a long time, there has been a book of poetry stirring in my mind. i want to title it, to all the boys i've ever known. maybe two books, in parallel. TATBIEK, and TATGIEK. one for boys, and one for girls. a poem each, or a series for those that have passed through my heart space, my body space, my head space....
its an interesting idea. but then caught here: my life all about and around the people that come in and go out. come again, go again. seems so silly, when you stand back and investigate this from a distance. what is she, really. what is this girl about? what is here other than all these outside people? what is this life, removed of all the distractions?
what are you really adding to my life?
when i stand back and look, when i really spend time looking.. there isn't much.
posted by sheloves at 10:58 AM
1 Comments:
Pretty closing. It is a lot to think about. You have those that are unmistakable influences. They own eras in our lifetime. Then there are those that are that are really just tiny pin pricks in the storyline. Barely memorable, if at all. Then there are those who share about 1/1000th of our time and they affect you either permanently or for a moment, but you are left wondering your exact question - what did I get out of this?
Nice to read you.
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