Seven for souls.
2007, in (multiple) seven word(sentences)s.
>Boxed things again, but am I moving?
>Felt alive, felt beautiful! Succumbed to medication.
>Questioned reality, decided I like to laugh.
>Some things transcend the limitations of intellect.
>Finally learned to ask, "Does it matter?"
I resolved some things, also.
> Being adult is hardly the point, remember to be human.
> Sports-related aphorisms are in daily speech for a reason: Keep your shoulder up, and follow through.
> Think about your beautiful body with respect; not that you lack it, but there's sometimes a certain disdain for consequences.
> Let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.
> Feed the hungry, in whatever capacity you can.
> Find out who fucked up that leaning tower, because you always wonder, and it's going to come up one day and you'll regret not knowing, like that one time Mr. Ramsey asked what esoteric meant and you had JUST wondered that yourself and didn't look it up.
> Find only inspiration in the world, not a scale with which to measure yourself.
> Datta, dayadhvam, damyata. And consider the reason for the meaning, even if it is falsely constructed. Because isn't all meaning constructed? Does anyone know the opposite of the word meaning?
> Catch yourself wanting to hang out with intellectuals.
> Stop eating fish with your hands, unless you're not going out in public until after you take a shower.
> Bake bread.
> Call sam.
> Find something to wear to your party.
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In the bathtub, when i was much younger, I used to imagine rising out like the Rough-faced Girl - when she knows she can marry the Invisible Being - being healed of everything that caused her pain, perfect and soft and warm -- infantile in a way. I'd place both hands on my face, eyes closed, and slide them back over my hair and then into the steaming water. Often, I'd submerge my head, let the water fill my ears, and let my arms float at my sides, trying to exclude as many senses as possible. I wanted so badly to have it easy. I wanted parents that loved each other. I wanted to eat food that didn't come out of the trash. I wanted McDonald's. I wanted clothes that didn't come from Goodwill, or the dumpster behind it. I wanted flawless skin. I wanted Dad to keep that promise he made me. I wanted straight teeth (and hair! and (though I didn't realize the severity of my problem) the ability to breathe through my nose. I wanted a heated house. I wanted glasses!
And it's not profound to say this, but I'd like to record it anyway: I'm so glad that my transformations have taken this long. I'm so grateful for my experiences of wont and hurt because now I can love my growth from an infantile state as an adult, which isn't as backward as it sounds. I can smell, and chew, and rub my cheek against a window pane, and weather the winter. I can do it myself! I am the war generation, and the nubile youth of the homecoming. I am still concerned with syntax, but much more with content. I am content? I'm nineteen, bitches! I am Emma, through and through. I meant what I said, and I said what I meant. An Emmaphant's faithful: one hundred percent.
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If I kiss you where it's sore
If I kiss you where it's sore
Will you feel better, better, better
Will you feel anything at all
Will you feel better, better, better
Will you feel anything at all
Born like sisters to this world
In a town where blood ties are only blood
If you never say your name out loud to anyone
They can never ever call you by it
You're getting sadder, getting sadder, getting sadder, getting sadder
And I don't understand, and I don't understand
But if I kiss you where it's sore
If I kiss you where it's sore
Will you feel better, better, better
Will you feel anything at all
Will you feel better, better, better
Will you feel anything at all
Anything at all