Five Points...(The Random Atlanta Reference You've Been Waiting For...)
There seems to be this horrible rectangle with four sides, lurking out there that we never talk about. And by "we" I of course mean everyone that has ever lived and will ever live...or I just mean me. Take the safer pick. Go ahead.
Because we can pretend that booze, distance, time and emotion aren't inter-related just as much as we can argue that chickens aren't better off dead (with the whole entire cannibalism thing, something is gonna eat them...for fuck's sake, they're delicious and *they* know it!)
Because the booze makes it easier to speak of the emotion with the lack of distance and the excess time and you figure...there will always be later, it can always be safer.
And yet too much distance is much like too much alcohol, words are easily said with a surplus of both...because there's an excuse...because we (everyone or just me, remember the deal) can write the words off as being something less (or more) than we are. For no one wants to be exposed (well, except those that do, perves).
We fear rejection, even when it's forever in doubt to rear it's head, we fear it. One month, five years, what have you, the minute you stop fearing "it" is perhaps the moment where as "routine" and a subtle certainty come into play and suddenly you're "taking things for granted".
And who wants that? Not Grant. Not even Sherman.
There's not quite a point (which should seem obvious) but there is a recognition (even in such a cowardly forum, a blog, really?) but it seemed best to let you know. Verbal would be wiser, but text is all I can offer...and vagueness, because...you know...other people are reading this!
Because we can pretend that booze, distance, time and emotion aren't inter-related just as much as we can argue that chickens aren't better off dead (with the whole entire cannibalism thing, something is gonna eat them...for fuck's sake, they're delicious and *they* know it!)
Because the booze makes it easier to speak of the emotion with the lack of distance and the excess time and you figure...there will always be later, it can always be safer.
And yet too much distance is much like too much alcohol, words are easily said with a surplus of both...because there's an excuse...because we (everyone or just me, remember the deal) can write the words off as being something less (or more) than we are. For no one wants to be exposed (well, except those that do, perves).
We fear rejection, even when it's forever in doubt to rear it's head, we fear it. One month, five years, what have you, the minute you stop fearing "it" is perhaps the moment where as "routine" and a subtle certainty come into play and suddenly you're "taking things for granted".
And who wants that? Not Grant. Not even Sherman.
There's not quite a point (which should seem obvious) but there is a recognition (even in such a cowardly forum, a blog, really?) but it seemed best to let you know. Verbal would be wiser, but text is all I can offer...and vagueness, because...you know...other people are reading this!