"Baby, one- two- three..." "Baby, FOUR, hellooo, open those doors?!"
Hi. Hug. Hugs(sss, plural.) And:
1. Cell phone insanity; the temporary cure:
My phone is now officially a different, but very similar number. Because ahh yes, These Things Happen, right?! So my slowly disintegrating phone more-or-less cracked out entirely, about half a day after giving it to you guys. Also? Fuck it. Any sleaze who wants can meet me at work; in a bar; in a tea-house of Zendom Supreme, even- any sketched-out character who wants can also see me naked, and if they have so much as a tenth of the grey matter that You Guys do: Can find my contact info. So for those of you who've called or texted my own phone (now at rest, hopefully willing to offer her innards to insert into a new phone, at a later point!) or who've been trying/wanting to call: *Just go back to the locked entry of a few days ago. The number has most of the same digits- but the last four are not 6485 right now. Instead, it's 703. *** 6464. Dig? I hope.
(Due to the above insanity and when it happened, in specific, I would love all the more to hear the sweet & much-missed voices that were coming to me in a slow rush, a few days ago. I miss you just as much, if not more, if one considers that even possible or plausible!) I hunger for your voice inntonations, ladies, gentleman, and fabulous neither/others. And (gah!) again, apologize if you thought I was pulling a disappearing act on you- or doing so not on purpose, once more. It's very much the opposite, that I can assure.
2.) Follow me to the end of this Thank You, to find where the postcards of beauty (!!) come into play. There are a lot of wonderful people who read my words here, and even who've been checking back for the better part of two years now, to check in on this one small bird. Birds, then, brings us to Nest(s)! Many of you have also contributed to my Nest, which is still ever-growing in its' looovely layers of pillows and meanings- and which has also expanded to several nests in miniature, splayed across a bed and a few velvet matresses. My gratitude for those pillows; for whatever each person put into making/giving/finding/sending; is immense. Verging on boundless, even. So whether they came so quickly, it was like faerie-dust whiplash- or were picked out slowly over two years & over-nighted to arrive by my door, during a time so difficult that my arms ached from pushing through: I'm so very, very grateful.
Right now, what I have with me (along with a few handfuls of D.I.Y. goodies), and would love to send/give in some small token of return: Are two gorgeous postcard books, by two incredible, sometimes surreal, sometimes silly, Asian artists. So if you're long-"owed" a somewhat tangible Thank You- or if you'd simply like a postcard, really- poke me with a comment, however small. Let me know that an email is coming- which takes us right to...:
3.) GMAIL, and: Big Brother Who Smothers, MUCH?! I feel like much of the time, emails come through to me, but some still get tucked into Spam, or even just *poof* to some cyber nether-realm. Then, at other times, multiple emails just don't come through to me at all. This is especially frustrating, in regards to wishing to contact specific people in this Specific Now, and actually read the emails I know have been sent! I can laugh at it, to a point; but however deeply I've been able to breathe these days, it's getting tiresome, verging on frustrating. I haven't customized my account yet, aside from adding a lovely image by a favorite artist to my so-called profile; and briefly telling the G-sters of Mail that a couple non-profits/indie businesses were definitely Not Spam. It looks like I'm going to have to go through some absurd process, however, in order to actually get all (if not, say, even most!) of the mail folks do send me. Anyone wanna hold my hand through this process? Fuck, "I just want to hear your voice- I just want to say your name"...! The internet helps so much, at times; but often where it helps most, can also harm. Fun stuff, this oxymoronic technology!
And... 4.) Hi. A lot of you wrote words that quite literally brought me to happy, healing tears, when I returned to this community~space. A lot of you send out so much caring energy that I'm not even sure I entirely deserve. But I care for many who read my words; so I'm asking again- please- my last entry wasn't Robin Playing At Cryptic Poet. It wasn't about the one person who helped me to get the words out. It was direct, direct, direct. If you care about me so much, please care about you as well- and in turn, offer what you can (opinions, poems, links, stories, name it) in response to my last entry. As answer to whatever question you saw me pondering. As anything, really.
I know sometimes my writing comes across as fragments of larger pieces that I'm writing- & sometimes people send me lovely letters in response, far more than "just" a brief comment. But what I'm looking for here, really is some sort of dialogue. Even if what I last wrote here might seem, at least sort of, like cryptic poetry- I'd really love to hear. From you. To bounce your oft-brilliant words, in and around my head. To dialogue, fragmented or not, via livejournal. Copy? Roger? Yes? Maybe?!
...Okay.