just too many things, all waiting for me to say them
fast now because I will forget them
a Contrast
-Remember when you told me about the way I was? in some ways you thought I was gifted, you said, Yes I think there were a few of those. I probably did nothing exceptional, you explained, only there was an occasional glimmer of a gift. There were more things I remember, more things about weakness. Things you said I would not do, things I would be better off to try, things I would want to do if I wanted any merits. I remember more of those. I remember the holes in my abilities. I remember your impression, your suggestions & questions, and curiously enough how cheerful you seemed at the moment. I did not feel hurt, not at all; only the more I remember it the more I realise, there was a question that got planted inside me, a question when you said all of those things, the age old, perennial, & perpetual question 'Is there something wrong with me?' Only I didn't ask it of myself so much as my subconscious did, and yea I think that's the way it was.
-You showed faith in me, and a lot of it, the proof & the pudding and the confirmation of your belief. It is a contrast, it is an amazing contrast, from the person who outlined all the holes that I had; Isn't it funny how many miles away the two of you are, how separate the two of you seem and how different you are going to sound? Only what is most amazing is how different I am, how different I feel when I get the opposite reaction. I was standing there with one mirror in front of me, seeing the reflection of the first Me, the younger me, and your words shocked me because it was like getting a new reflection and wondering whether that was really mine . . .
granted, loves, we hear lots things every day,
& it doesn't all agree
Only with so many controlled variables,
the contrast is no less than a shockiwock
~
the more tumultuous the world becomes,
the more we ache for normalcy
That's what my brilliant teacher said, one of his many great lines. And maybe you don't agree only I think he has it right. It feels pretty obvious, only for me it applies to movies. I will play the same movie several times in a row because I can use that normalcy. Use it just use it that's all, it helps to have the solidarity.
~
I heard someone's name for you
They called you - what was it - Little Mr. Grumps?
I know these motifs grow tired, that the same messages over & over get old, and that I've said it on Xanga a thousand times and probably five already on Blogger. Only I'll congratulate you, Little Mr. Grumps, on being so grumpy & beloved. Do you know what you are to them? to your friends & to your interests? They see the so called grumpiness, the frowns and all the neglect, and they decide it is the most interesting thing. They'll come after you for it, they'll beat the door down until it breaks because a little bit of toughness is always the most alluring. And in all the photos I've seen you in, all the fun crowds of people where you also are there, you look like you could be the happiest one. I wonder why?
you'll go far . . .
~
Photos, though, are so weird. Especially if it is people you know, doing something you weren't a part of. There's a little adventure and a little jealousy, wanting to have been there for the moment that you missed. I wonder if I'm the only one who has felt that, only Probably not.
the fact is, there are just some things that are difficult
some things back in Austin that never really resolved,
things that are weird to think about.
I feel like it's been a barrage here in San Antonio, a barrage of things to try & wipe all the thoughts out. I don't know how much it has been working only I can use more barrage kind of things. That is maybe why I am typing so much, just throwing big splats on the wall and yelling
Groodbye~ ~ ~
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