If you are reading this, I am thinking of you...
and how I could not be without you as you have given me everything.
You have given me the initiative to be the person I am today.
The strength and creativity and endless possibility.
There is not another way for me to exist, as I am you.
Genes and pieces of history,
mud and toads, and screaming, and crying, motion and sickness...
health as in marriage.
You will always be with me.
And though we cannot trade the past.
And though we sometimes wish to forget...
there is so much I am glad to have known, of you...
and to know that you know me.
These parts of life that make it seem as though there is not any reason,
as though there is only fear and loneliness have been quieted by thoughts of you.
Thank you.
I was sitting today and content but somewhat nervous.
Because there is not an answer to satisfy.
There is always something more....
We are not all the same.
And I know this blanket statement does not wrap up the package that is so hard to comprehend...
when trying to comprehend anything outside of one's own head.
There is something to be said about perspective.
There is something to be said about
..........."the politics of experience."
There is something to be said for the attempt to gain perspective and get outside of the mush inside one's own crooked skull....
Because, as I realised driving one day, with the end of the world looming...
in every car that passed me...
there is really nothing BUT this.
Because without this sharing and confusion and codependency and manipulation we are all trees falling alone.