Melanie, I absolutely understand the need to test yourself against the edge of the right words during a day filled with inconsequential moments. It is the cold shower to wake up (or, honestly, most of the time it is just a splash of cool water). Sharing commonalities, especially the harder-to-own truths we try so hard to keep from slipping from out fingers, is intoxicatingly intimate.
Ki Two, I do not know how well-thought out my posts really are. I believe our lives are filled with epiphanies of sorts, especially if you are open to them. The tricky part is holding on to them. They can be so ephemeral, wisps of smoke in our hands. I think you say it best when you speak of thinking. Perhaps that is my issue – I do not consider most of my thoughts to be all that deep. But then, I consider most thinking to be too restricted, and not truly thinking at all. Escaping the lines we’ve drawn within ourselves is the trick.
Freya, it was from your site I received my first link. I can recall reading your words and taking joy in that fact that you enjoyed my writing enough to connect to me. Style and voice are almost one and the same, for me. Here, the inflections of my voice are found in my word choice, the tenor and tone set by never-as-clever-as-I-think blog titles. All of my poetry before I hit college rhymed (ABAB, ABBA, AABB). The words slipped off my mind’s tongue in singsong chants. Most of it was utter trash, but damn, it sounded good. Substance followed style, and for years I tried to find a real voice. By the time this blog opened, I had finally found true comfort in how I write. Thank you for your words.
Lea, I am back. Did you really think I would not return?
Anonymous, so I’m just doing all the writing you’re too lazy to get around to, eh? I’m taking you’re name down, Anonymous and you owe me. Do you make a good pasta salad? Naked?
Nauthyinaustin, is it heaven for NE? I cannot speak for her, but from my understanding…she considers herself very lucky. And not simply because of the dual relationships she lives in; she has found two people who, pardon my self-modesty, are rather exceptional at being the type of people they are. As for the details of that conversation with Bear outside the dorm…well, some things must remain in the dark. I like to tease NE with what she doesn’t know about that conversation, and that would ruin the fun. But to answer your real question, the laying of a foundation that has allowed our relationships to survive – it is simple as this: absolute honesty, with yourself, and those involved.
Chelsea Girl, you are not kidding; I have some truly atrocious typos. Not to mention my habit of leaving out entire words that I write in my head but somehow get dropped by the time they reach the screen. I have done a bit of writing this last month, and in my upcoming posts, your insights on my writing will play out; you know me too well.
Nancy Dancehall, life is amazingly cyclical. If it is your will that you have a chance again, make an imprint of your intent on the world and see what happens.
L.G., you are more than welcome. I think you will find that you are much more than adequate with words. If fear of judgement, that somehow your words will stack up less to others, is what keeps you from writing, than you are misguided. Never ask forgiveness for your words. They are a gateway, one that belongs to you alone. As long as you inhabit respect for yourself when you write your words hold value.
Introspectre, girl of hotdog buns and silly things. Writing has never been a chore for me because I never write for others.
This is not to say I don’t write to elicit a certain response from those who read, because I do, all of the time. I write to see which words capture the imgination, which lines linger in the minds of others. But I always do it for selfish reasons. For my own edification, for my own needs. There are times I feel like I have to write, that I need to say something, anything, but this is good for me. Because if forces me to continue to practice at something I enjoy, to find something new amongst the old.
Magicknyx, there are sweet addictions. I do hope this is one of them. Desire is the blood of life, and I am glad you are drinking from its cup.
Beatnik, you have hit upon the act in which I strive – that words live, that they sketch in the contours of thought and ambition, an act of creation that is as much inspiration and instigation.
Sabrina, thank you. The lines between poetry and verse are thin for me. It is only a matter of space. The sound of silence, the pause between breaths.
Stiletto Girl, I do not truly view myself as an exhibitionist, as I seldom write to be vulnerable, except in a more visceral sense. But I do see this blog as a story of sorts. I am curious to find out if what comes next.
