What's in a blog? Yes I've had my share of rants here, but when it really matters, when it's intense enough to hurt or bewilder in delight, when it enslaves me and shakes me to the core, I can't seem to be able to reproduce it in words for everyone to read, I can't seem to be able to be that transparent, and maybe I shouldn't be. But then what's the point? Is it merely the writing itch, expression fever, the communication bug?
Something happened yesterday, but I can't get myself to name the protagonists, to recreate the entrancing scene, to draw the intricate details that made it so... I can't because then I will become vulnerable, I will have to admit to what happened and what lead to it. I will have to admit to the world but even more so to myself what it really felt like, how I perceived it, risking misinterpretation and disillusionment. No. So I resort to expressing myself in these cryptic declarations. Maybe hoping for the message to go through, maybe hoping for the feelings to get transcribed, to transcend this page...
I loved every minute of it. Getting out of bed at 2 am, turning my computer on, finding you. How I love that we're not together.
Something happened yesterday, but I can't get myself to name the protagonists, to recreate the entrancing scene, to draw the intricate details that made it so... I can't because then I will become vulnerable, I will have to admit to what happened and what lead to it. I will have to admit to the world but even more so to myself what it really felt like, how I perceived it, risking misinterpretation and disillusionment. No. So I resort to expressing myself in these cryptic declarations. Maybe hoping for the message to go through, maybe hoping for the feelings to get transcribed, to transcend this page...
I loved every minute of it. Getting out of bed at 2 am, turning my computer on, finding you. How I love that we're not together.
Listening to:
--Je t'aime... moi non plus-- Serge Gainsbourg
