boy, the intellect is over-rated. especially when used by people who think it isn't. you know what i think is far more exciting? listening to someone and being unsure. not having to be right. not making yourself wrong. giggling at ambiguity. and inviting it in.
the past two months have consisted entirely of my external life not having much to show for my existence, and my internal life has moved to the himalayas, borneo, timbuktu and the tigres river, all simultaneously. no, i'm not high right now. but i betcha that didn't make any sense. and it honestly doesn't say anything about the truth of my situation at all. i really really really think words, while useful for obvious reasons, have a way of taking something boundless and phenomenal and turning it into something trite. think about this the next time you try to explain a great time to someone, and end sheepishly with, "well, you had to be there."
the department of my interior has been chaotic, muddy, fertile, overgrown and chock full of birds of paradise. since september, i have had all my buffers and barriers to the harshness of living peeled away, experienced my day to day raw and skeletal, and have taken up residence in that grey area between black and white.
and i have all these secrets...things i have realized, joys that have peeked up above the muck of personal deconstruction, that i would LOVE to share. but there's no way to do justice to what it felt like to marry myself on the beach on my birthday. what it feels like to wake up for the umpteenth time every single god damn morning and be faced with the kaliedescope from the previous nights dreams, and the electrical current of anxiety and grief that continues to run deep in me somewhere. what it feels like to finally figure out the mystery of my childhood. how confusing it is to live with a man you unconditionally love but can no longer be with, and have to hold both realities at the same time. to finally understand that my own personal sorrow and bliss are so infintesimally intertwined that i just finally realized the futility in trying to seperate them. and what about all the things that just defy language at all?
we talk so much that we totally miss the coy smile of silence sitting next to us, offering her hand and the invitation to submerge. i'm not interested in what you have to say. but i really do want to HEAR you. and i can. just stop for a minute. shut up for once. and put the ego on hold.
the past two months have consisted entirely of my external life not having much to show for my existence, and my internal life has moved to the himalayas, borneo, timbuktu and the tigres river, all simultaneously. no, i'm not high right now. but i betcha that didn't make any sense. and it honestly doesn't say anything about the truth of my situation at all. i really really really think words, while useful for obvious reasons, have a way of taking something boundless and phenomenal and turning it into something trite. think about this the next time you try to explain a great time to someone, and end sheepishly with, "well, you had to be there."
the department of my interior has been chaotic, muddy, fertile, overgrown and chock full of birds of paradise. since september, i have had all my buffers and barriers to the harshness of living peeled away, experienced my day to day raw and skeletal, and have taken up residence in that grey area between black and white.
and i have all these secrets...things i have realized, joys that have peeked up above the muck of personal deconstruction, that i would LOVE to share. but there's no way to do justice to what it felt like to marry myself on the beach on my birthday. what it feels like to wake up for the umpteenth time every single god damn morning and be faced with the kaliedescope from the previous nights dreams, and the electrical current of anxiety and grief that continues to run deep in me somewhere. what it feels like to finally figure out the mystery of my childhood. how confusing it is to live with a man you unconditionally love but can no longer be with, and have to hold both realities at the same time. to finally understand that my own personal sorrow and bliss are so infintesimally intertwined that i just finally realized the futility in trying to seperate them. and what about all the things that just defy language at all?
we talk so much that we totally miss the coy smile of silence sitting next to us, offering her hand and the invitation to submerge. i'm not interested in what you have to say. but i really do want to HEAR you. and i can. just stop for a minute. shut up for once. and put the ego on hold.
VIEW 25 of 28 COMMENTS
please pass the momo's!
I just happened along hereabouts and now I have this strange sensation.
You see, I'm chronically stuck in my head. It's a good head. The brain works mostly very well - excepting the memory glitches. - but it gets in the way. Feeling is a little alien sometimes. And with Cancer rising that's a problem.
So, I am feeling. Your words touch me and awaken things within. Your words express things I am only dimly aware of in myself. And beyond that, they intrigue me. Call to me. Invite me to my own deeper inner realms.
Not to overplay the astrology thing, but my Libra Moon loves your juxtapositions. Constrasts are what make life interesting. The simultaneous holding of seeming opposite or contradictory notions is real, alive and mysterious.
Oh dear.... I just went to see your pics. You're a belly dancer. Oh my. Um, err, I don't know what to say. Love ethnic dance. Dated dancers, been to Rakkasah many times, do some doumbhek. Gulp. I may be smitten.
Nope, I am. Twitterpated. Clever, sexy, conscious, real, beautiful and more. You have a new fan.