the many crowns of ophelia

[chenanigan]

in response to dom's post, which was, in turn, a response to katia's post.

i will tell you a story.

there's a girl. (maybe she's a boy. she could be a boy. she could be anybody. she could be everybody. maybe she already is)

she loves. she drowns. she rises. she is the lost girl (or boy), the broken one, who exists in all of us. she is crying in a

Comments

Re: a chain of comment posts.

[katiaguzzardi]

*sighs* You guys are some of the best friends I will ever have, your words mean more to me than all the stars in the sky.
We understand each other on so many different levels. While we all have aspects that make each one of us special we still all have something in us that is the same.
your chain of posts and comments is causing me to *tear up* I love you guys

Re: a chain of comment posts.

[chenanigan]

it is that whole idea of kinship again, isn't it? kindred spirits. compassion. empathy. the one true Heart. whatever words you want to use for it, they're all "different names for the same thing".

we're all made of the same stuff, in the end. and it's the same spirit moving through all of us.

i thought of a beautiful story the other day. it's about a group of people who decide to run off a cliff to escape the madness of the world. as one, they make that final and inevitable leap - but then the world turns upside down, and they find that instead of falling to the earth or the ocean below, they are falling through the blue of the sky, and into the cloudy arms of the sky herself.

we will all be safe.

Re: a chain of comment posts.

[katiaguzzardi]

Chen....can I send you my essay tomorrow and can you edit it online....like highlite crap and grammar wise..but in a diff color? pretty please....i will bring you something fantastical!!

Re: a chain of comment posts.

[chenanigan]

no problemo! :D just send it to me when you're ready.

Re: a chain of comment posts.

[chenanigan]

must words always be a prison? i think we can, in time, learn how to twist words into ropes so that all girls can escape from the burning, falling towers of their worlds. we can take them back, we can reclaim the lost language, and make the words come home to us again. we can unmake the prison of our own making. i believe that.

... but one day, someone noticed.
it drives me crazy, sometimes, to think that people walk around with their pain all the time, and that if they don't tell me, i don't know. i can't know. at the same time, though, they might be carrying something beautiful inside of themselves that it is also waiting to be revealed to the light.

and what is this something beautiful?
their story, of course.
it keeps me humble to realise that my story is not only my own... it is the story of the world. even if the individual forgets, the heart of this universe remembers all stories, and it understands darkness and light.

and here's something that my old teacher man mckenna once said to me :

There is no separation between