Did i just kiss a boy?
Sitting at this party i decided to exercise my power over silence. Al my life silence has been that one thing I'v always admired, there is so much reservation in it, the feeling of conserved energy better used at some other time. Why then can I never do it? Because, there is to much tto say to people, to much to express. When you speak and are spoken to you may connect, there is a passage opened into another life that you are invited and pulled into. Silence, it creats its own passage but not into anyone, there is no connecion but only a pressence. Silence is cold flowing into cool. Conversation is the welcoming warm. Warm is always left out. The pressence is better then the message in such casses it would appear. The warm is seen as needy and not friendly. I'm warm. I'v always been uncool.
So, for some reason sitting there in that appartment I decided to exercise my silence. My silence is self reflective. It's also inviting. And when you come to grips with being a story teller that when does not speak attracts and brings in that one person across the room but at the same time you make your self question your very own existance and purpose the only choose you'r left with is a warm conversation.
And, thats when I heard it:
"Who are you anyways?"
Over looking the conversation that followed it was only the first interaction of two that night that i now find creditable. The second was me coming out of the silence, to have a warm conversation with another silent party goer, or more so thrower. She was silent for other reasons though i belive. She was silent in her own home, at her own birthdayparty. She was naturaly quite and now was compleatly void of interaction. It was because of this that i came out of my slumber. Took off my sunglasses. And we spoke freely.
This world is unreal, the appartment, the party the people, everytime I enter is a dream land. Philosophy drips in jokes and matter of fact observations. every room is another party, you may miss one but only by being another. This is a place when the strength of silence is tested and broken by the planforce of the atmospher. And, when all is said and done this is a place where when you lose the world and the muck and your own life, you find another one just waitin for you. It's just another saturday night I spent alone but through that, beyond it, there is one full of another life all its own.
So, what do I do now, I left no impresion but the one that is on myself, and they left that one. My reflection is not even a medium as much as it is an amplifier.
Do I stay silent? I find more and more these days that my warmth is failing me in the respect that I do not care to speak. I could not speak and n one would care it feels. I know i would not. How much does what you say matter when you don't even care for your self? I'll speak on requst maybe. Or I'll mow everyone down with my car. Perhaps I'll disapear or just my words will. Who really cares? I think spaeking upon request might work. Like Matt says, everything is undermy breath, at least its been that way lately.
How much do you put into, "Who are you anyways?"? How much do I put into taking off my sun glasses?
So, for some reason sitting there in that appartment I decided to exercise my silence. My silence is self reflective. It's also inviting. And when you come to grips with being a story teller that when does not speak attracts and brings in that one person across the room but at the same time you make your self question your very own existance and purpose the only choose you'r left with is a warm conversation.
And, thats when I heard it:
"Who are you anyways?"
Over looking the conversation that followed it was only the first interaction of two that night that i now find creditable. The second was me coming out of the silence, to have a warm conversation with another silent party goer, or more so thrower. She was silent for other reasons though i belive. She was silent in her own home, at her own birthdayparty. She was naturaly quite and now was compleatly void of interaction. It was because of this that i came out of my slumber. Took off my sunglasses. And we spoke freely.
This world is unreal, the appartment, the party the people, everytime I enter is a dream land. Philosophy drips in jokes and matter of fact observations. every room is another party, you may miss one but only by being another. This is a place when the strength of silence is tested and broken by the planforce of the atmospher. And, when all is said and done this is a place where when you lose the world and the muck and your own life, you find another one just waitin for you. It's just another saturday night I spent alone but through that, beyond it, there is one full of another life all its own.
So, what do I do now, I left no impresion but the one that is on myself, and they left that one. My reflection is not even a medium as much as it is an amplifier.
Do I stay silent? I find more and more these days that my warmth is failing me in the respect that I do not care to speak. I could not speak and n one would care it feels. I know i would not. How much does what you say matter when you don't even care for your self? I'll speak on requst maybe. Or I'll mow everyone down with my car. Perhaps I'll disapear or just my words will. Who really cares? I think spaeking upon request might work. Like Matt says, everything is undermy breath, at least its been that way lately.
How much do you put into, "Who are you anyways?"? How much do I put into taking off my sun glasses?