this and that and the things that don’t get said


There are many things I’d like to write about, but find that for whatever reason the words are coming out wrong. Backwards. Too thin.
And so, since I cannot write about these things, I’d like to write about the things I’d like to write about:

I wanted to post about the pain in my neck and how its been dripping into my shoulders. I wonder if my body is turning into my mother’s, but only 30 years sooner.

I wanted to write about bugs and the kiss of an ant’s pincher.

I had this epiphany about how I’d been searching above the city and underwater for silence, only to have accidentally stumbled upon to realize – I was looking for quiet of the mind, and upon finding it I wanted to do absolutely nothing except let it seep into me, and stain into a memory of what true calm can be like.

I thought about writing about wearing a bikini… in Nepal… and how a frog swam by grazing my belly. I don’t think I’d ever really paid attention to how graceful they are underwater – I almost wanted to be one. Also, holy poopsiciles, the baby ones ARE SO FREAKING CUTE!!!!! I should post pictures. Swimming with frogs. 🙂

I started a poem about writing letters and singing songs and how I want to suck the marrow of words in almost pathetic desperation… for what? I don’t know. I’m not sure I’d like to find out.

I have ideas and excitement regarding how strangers turn into friends. (And I guess therefore also about how sometimes, friends turn into strangers.) But mostly about what you’re willing to revel and the joy of exposing together.

I want to write about apologies.

I wish I could post about the meaning of life and how I’m beginning to rediscover God in everything.

I could write a thousand words on how much I love plain drinking water.

I’d like to write an honest post on why I chopped off all of my hair, and how I remember my black tresses in the waste bin, a nest of dead cells that I had once cared for.

I wish I could write and take the vanity, the  self absorption, the disgusting selfishness, the “I”, out of everything.

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3 comments
  1. Dipti said:

    🙂 i DID read this one. i guess cause it comes from someplace i know 🙂

  2. would make for an awesome spoken word poem.

    do it.

    do it!

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