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reenkathere's a sense i get that everything is interconnected and i walk around only pretending it isn't and there are boundaries between things even though there aren't, and maybe sometimes they flow into each other, and sometimes ... i see myself in everyone and everything that reflects. maybe that's only me, but.
it's hard to step outside the world where everything is a signifier and i can make up stories about it, almost, just the way someone's hands are or the way they present themselves, the art they make of their life. i try to make sense and say things that follow some sort of pattern, but i get tired, and it's not really what i want to do, or maybe it's just too much and eventually i forget where i was going and it becomes static.
have you noticed? most people make sense, except sometimes they don't, and they speak in loops and symbols and metaphors and similies and it's like they're weaving and making music, except music too, has structure, and this is sort of fractured, broken down, flowing in and out of itself like a kaleidoscope.
i want to breathe in patterns and i want to let go and dance and when i dance, i always dance -away-, always further than i can encompass later, and further than i could really come back from. so little pieces of me are always dancing out of reach, following the butterflies. breathless. seamless. fractured.
i want to not be separating this and trying to make sense in one little box and not necessarily make sense in another box. i think i've been placing things in boxes, and this was my box of fannish self, but it's not really like i have one. i feel like i'm repeating myself unless i forget what i'm saying and merely express rather than try to encompass and communicate. this whole practice of communicating my inability to communicate, it fascinates me. speaking for the sake of speaking, and letting it flow over into something new, something that isn't walled in by definitions and a-to-b constructs, and is simply an expression of who you are. so often i feel faint, and i am only fooling myself if i say i really want to wake up.
i really think (it's like) this, and yes, yes, ee cummings is. he is.
it's hard to step outside the world where everything is a signifier and i can make up stories about it, almost, just the way someone's hands are or the way they present themselves, the art they make of their life. i try to make sense and say things that follow some sort of pattern, but i get tired, and it's not really what i want to do, or maybe it's just too much and eventually i forget where i was going and it becomes static.
have you noticed? most people make sense, except sometimes they don't, and they speak in loops and symbols and metaphors and similies and it's like they're weaving and making music, except music too, has structure, and this is sort of fractured, broken down, flowing in and out of itself like a kaleidoscope.
i want to breathe in patterns and i want to let go and dance and when i dance, i always dance -away-, always further than i can encompass later, and further than i could really come back from. so little pieces of me are always dancing out of reach, following the butterflies. breathless. seamless. fractured.
i want to not be separating this and trying to make sense in one little box and not necessarily make sense in another box. i think i've been placing things in boxes, and this was my box of fannish self, but it's not really like i have one. i feel like i'm repeating myself unless i forget what i'm saying and merely express rather than try to encompass and communicate. this whole practice of communicating my inability to communicate, it fascinates me. speaking for the sake of speaking, and letting it flow over into something new, something that isn't walled in by definitions and a-to-b constructs, and is simply an expression of who you are. so often i feel faint, and i am only fooling myself if i say i really want to wake up.
i really think (it's like) this, and yes, yes, ee cummings is. he is.
