Blogging has been good for me. Fun for a time. But I'm ready to go back to my 3X5 inch notebook, in which I don't worry about proving the profoundness of my thoughts. I miss the raw outlet of embarrassing or elated or depressing thoughts. As and when they strike me. Grammatically incorrect and all.
Goodbye ol' blog. And know, there were secrets I kept from you. But none I kept from myself.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Tortilla chips and cheese dip
Why is the one, most prominent weakness being challenged like no other time in my life? All of a sudden, WHAM! All of these bustling hands and eager voices swarm around me. There's so much buzzing, I can't possibly communicate richly with any one source of the noise. I'm limited to expressions, each punctuated by time's scarcity. But trapped also by my lack of concern. Except for that one. That one. And the reciprocation I finally received, is trapped by too much concern on the other end. Catch-22. Irony. Climactic arrival. Sigh.
Special attention isn't special, when given to everyone. Not everyone deserves it. The level of attention is stacked over time. It builds. I have to take the time to assemble these little structures of trust. Protection is a must.
We love talking about ourselves, don't we? I really don't care that you got an A. Or that you were crowned royalty by strangers. Or that you have an astronomically high amount of facebook friends. And I don't expect you to care about me either. We are self-serving, dismal creatures that only live to satiate drives that can not be abated. Forget it all, and lets talk about something that will last.
Humility is not thinking less of yourself. It's thinking of yourself, less.
Bluebirds...
Special attention isn't special, when given to everyone. Not everyone deserves it. The level of attention is stacked over time. It builds. I have to take the time to assemble these little structures of trust. Protection is a must.
We love talking about ourselves, don't we? I really don't care that you got an A. Or that you were crowned royalty by strangers. Or that you have an astronomically high amount of facebook friends. And I don't expect you to care about me either. We are self-serving, dismal creatures that only live to satiate drives that can not be abated. Forget it all, and lets talk about something that will last.
Humility is not thinking less of yourself. It's thinking of yourself, less.
Bluebirds...
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
If happy little bluebirds fly...
Addie sang that song like I've never heard it before. Her voice was like the drop of sweetness extracted from a honeysuckle flower. I closed by eyes and reveled in the lyrics, while a quiet happiness washed over me.
I don't need a man's arms wrapped around me to feel comforted. I have that. And I'm so glad I could cry. I do, sometimes. This blanket of down feathers warms me and all my fears are erased. There was nothing there to fear in the first place.
If happy little bluebirds fly beyond the rainbow,
Why, oh, why can't I?
Way up past the clouds and storm, there are blue skies. I promise. Isn't it amazing? They're always there. Well, I'm not coming down. I don't have to. I refuse to reside in rainstorms. (They're not good for my hair.)
I don't need a man's arms wrapped around me to feel comforted. I have that. And I'm so glad I could cry. I do, sometimes. This blanket of down feathers warms me and all my fears are erased. There was nothing there to fear in the first place.
If happy little bluebirds fly beyond the rainbow,
Why, oh, why can't I?
Way up past the clouds and storm, there are blue skies. I promise. Isn't it amazing? They're always there. Well, I'm not coming down. I don't have to. I refuse to reside in rainstorms. (They're not good for my hair.)
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