being that

being that more has been forgotten than remembered...

...i gave a million words when all she wanted was one heart.
there was a time this would have been so much more, so revealing, so many secrets from the other side of the wall and if you listen very hard...

the tune will come to you at last

(these songs/player might not show in Firefox, which would spoil the effect, as if this parenthesis has not already, so laugh kukaburro, laugh) and in the end, the love you save, you know?... so it all becomes rhetoric if we let it and if we don't take it seriously enough, it all is for naught, wasted, the tragedy of an unshared life, but if we take it all too seriously, we go mad, so the moral is...

don't go mad.

times was we knew everything it was delusion lost in confusion we forget more than we ever knew you can touch if you want to if you dare if you care you can share

times was we knew nothing it was so real what we could feel was everything in nothing in time we can touch if we want to if we dare if we care we can share

times was we knew everything it was illusion lost in confusion we forget more than we ever knew you can touch if you want to if you dare if you care you can share

the next step is to understand and build a bridge and step across and be where we are together as if we could share one mind and learn to step together living in the same time... that's the secret key, synchronizing living in the same time... so i can introduce myself a million times in a billion words or more, but there is still more to be shared in the mind and space and time... if we synchronize living in the same time - we become the rhyme...

metaphorically speaking, of course :)

pro-dulgent

this was suppose to be profound . . .

. . . and it became self-indulgent.
self-found?

intimate correspondence

something i wrote to an old friend on the subject of writing as communication, writing as correspondence between two people who want to share words one on one, two who want to depend on each other to be there to read and respond, two who want to trust each other to be there as a literary friend... i used to love that feeling, that illusion of intimate trust shared in correspondence, but i no longer spend time cultivate it anymore... this (with a bit more thought) lead me to that conclusion...

if i had more time or wanted to spend more time writing, i'd write more here... i use what time i spend writing to keep the daily blog flowing because if i didn't i might stop writing... i write to myself now and leave it at that...

simply, honestly, hopefully without harm - the truth of my writing life now is that i have learned to write to myself in my rambling way in brief snips and while i may occasionally lament over feeling alone, i have also learned to expect nothing and even more, depend on no one because that is the best way to maintain my self-esteem and the only way i can be sure of not being disappointed or set myself up to feel abandoned...

it may seem sad that i no longer trust or believe i can depend on human beings to share consistently, but it is the most sensible rational logical decision i ever made and brings the most peaceful easy feeling i have ever known...

the illusion of sharing, trusting, depending on someone still calls at times and the sadness that it will likely not happen with humans occasionally lures me into believing i need to share and trust, but humans are all too willing to prove that trust is an illusion and dependency and consistency is something humans choose not to offer...

all this is likely only my perspective because i have finally given up on compromising and was most likely never willing enough to compromise enough to build the bond humans build with each other... my failing, from human standards... and i can accept that point of view as valid... but as the song goes, i've got to be me...

when you think about this, if you truly knew me, then you will realize you did not need to read this comment, for you already knew...

dreams die hard...

there's a few quotes and songs i can reference or insert here but as much as i can relate to all of them, none actually reflect what i mean here... and not even harry's dreams go by really gets it... for all the years of trying to find that connection to another human, i accept it has not happened and do not expect it to...

or something like that...

and this realization that i no longer feel the urge to respond to the lure of intimate (and i do not mean sexual, i mean the unconditional trust required for truly intimate sharing) conversation in words is one more facet of the sharing of me, for anyone who wants to know...

all this while watching one of my favorite films of all time, the princess bride...

is that ironic? :)