Perspective

[insafemode]

The problem with jumping out of a plane and into the middle of an ocean is mainly about perspective.

One: I can't gauge how far away the water is from my point of entrance in the sky. I'm wearing a parachute, but not entirely sure that pulling it is going to do me any favors.

Two: The ocean is fucken vast. I don't know for certain that I can't

Comments

[insafemode]

In me, as well. Well, I channel all the crying jags into poking needles into the Sora voodoo doll. I'm sure you can imagine where I poke those needles.

oh man

[wolfdancer]

been there, no safty net.
no flotatation in sight.
hugs

Re: oh man

[insafemode]

Thanks.

[shiraz_wine]

I love your writing.

I love your writing because your last paragraph just put into words that I couldn't express how I've been feeling about this guy.

This guy, who two years was THE GUY. The one who, after two years of knowing him, I thought I was in love with him.

I was in love with him and he tore my world apart by getting together with my best friend. My (former) best friend who he had met two days before.

Two years of knowing him before I admitted I was in love. Two days before he found another. And two years later, like you, I can see that he was just a blip on the radar.

So thank you for expressing it much more eloquently than I could.

[insafemode]

Thanks. It's certainly not a fun situation to be in. There are further similarities in our stories, I think. I will get to them soon.

[shiraz_wine]

It's definitely not. Even now, after the pain has lessened and I can look back on it with more clarity, I wish I could get rid of the stray thoughts of "I wonder what he/she is up to?" and the occasional musings of revenge. The worst part of it all is that they did date for at least a year; I would have felt so much better if they had crashed and burned right away.

Ah, well. I've moved on now and I'm getting a hamster. Love based on a steady supply of food. That's the way to go.

[avgboojie]

Literary people have a problem with blogs, I believe. We're so busy with our steamy romance with the language we use, with the metaphors, with the text as a unified whole with well rounded ideas and all loose ends well tied up together, that we somehow tend to lose, somewhere amongst all that wonderful writing, the simple, blunt blow of our emotions. Those emotions which aren't sophisticated, or intricately weaved, or filled with poetic merit and well wrapped up - just, you know, emotions.
And it's not embellishment. It's not over-sophistication. It's not pretentiousness. We can't help it. It's the way our brains work. The words are there. The metaphors are there. We don't seek them. They're there.
I get that feeling very strongly from this post. The words, insisting on making beauty and intricacy and literary merit - and a certain wholeness, from beginning to end - from something which is, originally, very blunt, or fragmented, or just sort of plain, when left to its own devices.

[miss_ljv]

*hug*

I've been wondering about you.

I love your writing.

[insafemode]

Thanks. I've been ok, just very very busy.