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Showing posts from April, 2018

The Writer On Beauty and Happiness

I once wanted to see myself as a writer, as a person gifted with a skill to put words together to say profound and wondrous things, to amaze readers with thoughts and emotions that would open their minds and free them from the shackles of fears that oppress us from without and from outside in this culture. What I have found in sharing personal letters is that most people personalize the thoughts and feeling in the words to a point where they either fall in love or become defensive, accepting the concepts and therein the person who they do not really know or rejecting them before ever knowing them. This is an attempt to reach beyond that superficial and over-personalized communication, an attempt to find your mind open, objective, and even eager to understand the concepts, thoughts, feelings, and playfulness in these words without judging the writer, without leaping to any assumptions or conclusions that you know me. For how can anyone truly know another without spending time lookin...

Maybe I'm Wrong

Maybe you agree, maybe you don't Maybe you'll write, maybe you won't I just keep guessing how you may react only you can say what is fact Maybe what I write makes no sense to you maybe you do not believe it is true maybe you disagree and just don't say I can only guess. what's in your head today Sometimes I think that I make a lot of sense that I give good advice, but maybe I'm dense maybe I'm wrong to keep sharing with you sometimes I wonder why I do I want you to know me, to want me to care I want to be someone you respect, maybe revere I want to be someone you think can be wise I want to know who I am in your eyes because you've known me for many years sharing the same space through laughter and tears we see the good, bad, and ugly in each other I call you sister, do you call me brother? did we waste our time sharing all we shared? I don't want to believe you never really cared but your silence leaves me wondering what i...

When You No Longer Hide

What I mean is.... Someday listen to Harry Chapin's Tangle Up Puppet and you may understand :) Meanwhile, in the semi-La Cage Aux Folles corner of my mind, I wanted to explain the text that I wrote right after to told me you were going to start to write. The previous email I sent is a great example of what I mean. You may have understood, but I was not referring to writing to anyone or even sharing the words. I share some words with you and the internet because I go beyond what I was referring to in the text. What I meant in the text is that when you want to write and feel like there are no words, shift your focus a little (or a lot) and write to someone else. Not as if you are going to send the words to anyone, but often that shift will start the words flowing again. Writer's block is what makes most people stop writing. There are ways around the block. Get it? :) A pen and paper. I wrote at least a few millions words with pen and paper. Hundreds of hundred page noteboo...

all I want

I check my email, nothing meaningful is there I check my phone, no one really seems to care I check myself, sometimes I'm not even here and still I do everything I can just to share because all I want to do in life is share. I ask for too much, it drives people away sharing everything is not popular today I just want someone who is not afraid to play without hiding or asking me to pay I just want someone real who really wants to stay I try to understand why people are afraid to share so afraid to trust, to love, to let themselves be here I understand how people can use and abuse me when I care but I don't understand over empowering fear to me that is just wasting the little time we have here all I want to do in life is share This isn't just to you, E, this is me trying to express myself and understand who I am, what I want, and what is missing from my otherwise happy life. The superficial challenges and comforts and cleanliness and healthiness matter, but ...

This Is Me (An Illusion)

Hopeful? Or is it an illusion that a therapist would label as unhealthy with a classification and medication? I won't give up on love it's my obsession some dream of a god above my dream goes in another direction I don't want promises from someone I can't see I want to look in someone's eyes and know they see me I won't give up on hope it's my perfection as long as there is hope in me my dream lives in a state of reflection I don't want compromises from someone in sympathy I want to hold someone's hand and feel they feel me It's a story often told in fairy tales of old to children laced with laughter a happily ever after I believed it is true and still believe, I do As foolish as it may seem true love is my only dream I won't give up on life it's my affection sometimes it cuts like a knife my dream is without harmful complexion I don't want empowered fear in my reality I want someone to share everyt...