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Array ( [sid] => 146629 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Just journaling. . . [time] => 2008-12-02 18:32:00 [hometext] => longest lesson ever learning. . . I spin & turn with all concerning. . . make my bed & leave it burning. . . all because the table's turning. . . [bodytext] => Chaos & order, following suit. If I have to fill a void, it should be myself. So what if nobody ever sees this. I can go over it time & again in my mind & perfect the secret inside of love, the part you don't want to show but can't help feeling. Ohh, oh, oh, did she say feel? Don't let me be repetitive. . . sigh. . . :) scribble, scrabble. I'm shaking my head. It all feels so weird. . . to try & think & write at the same time. You end up think/saying each word seperately. Like now. Were my lips moving? I saw some new videos, today at lunch. Music must be some life. . . Probably challenging, exciting. . . Why do we like to be excited?? Inside & out? Must I write what flows? I want to be wanted. Is that too special? Can I be fixed? I feel inside-out, like all my insides are floating in disarray, out into my universe. Will they/me reunite & will I be the same or different than what I used to be?? Everything is likely & unlikely. . . possible & impossible. Some names are just unacceptable to call anybody. I won't expand but chronic repetition intensivies the harshness of it all. How many times can I really hold my world (that I'm unhappy with) up to the light, for a good, close look? If I stand very close to the mirror. . . if I gaze into myself & find distortion of the gift. . . to be continued. . . [comments] => 1 [counter] => 193 [topic] => 48 [informant] => elle [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => EmotionalPoetry )
Just journaling. . .

Contributed by elle on Tuesday, 2nd December 2008 @ 06:32:00 PM in AEST
Topic: EmotionalPoetry



Chaos & order, following suit. If I have to fill a void, it should be myself. So what if nobody ever sees this. I can go over it time & again in my mind & perfect the secret inside of love, the part you don't want to show but can't help feeling. Ohh, oh, oh, did she say feel? Don't let me be repetitive. . . sigh. . . :) scribble, scrabble. I'm shaking my head. It all feels so weird. . . to try & think & write at the same time. You end up think/saying each word seperately. Like now. Were my lips moving? I saw some new videos, today at lunch. Music must be some life. . . Probably challenging, exciting. . . Why do we like to be excited?? Inside & out? Must I write what flows? I want to be wanted. Is that too special? Can I be fixed? I feel inside-out, like all my insides are floating in disarray, out into my universe. Will they/me reunite & will I be the same or different than what I used to be?? Everything is likely & unlikely. . . possible & impossible. Some names are just unacceptable to call anybody. I won't expand but chronic repetition intensivies the harshness of it all. How many times can I really hold my world (that I'm unhappy with) up to the light, for a good, close look? If I stand very close to the mirror. . . if I gaze into myself & find distortion of the gift. . . to be continued. . .




Copyright © elle ... [ 2008-12-02 18:32:00]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: Just journaling. . . (User Rating: 1 )
by Former_Member on Thursday, 2nd April 2009 @ 03:59:32 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
Somehow, it seems to me, that you don't just do anything.

I get this image. Okay, it's there. Aliens have abducted Elle and one exclaims "Upon examination, I have determined that this human's brain seems to be occupied by more words than it can absorb".

Another alien dude replies, "How can that be? The absorption rate of the cranium is exceeded by her vocabulary, yet she arranges every single word so, carefully, so exquisitely, so passionately, so, so, amazingly justified in such an intellectual and masterful way.. it's ... it's"

A shorter, more gray alien across the distance of the examination room of the rather dark craft shouts out "GENIUS?"

"Yes, yes, genius!!!", yet another taller alien cries out.

Several are heard saying, "Even as a journalist, she is a virtuoso"

"A natural flare for wizardry"

"Two thumbs up, Ebert and Roper"

"Hey, what are they doing here?"

"Sedate them sedate them!"

We interrupt this regularly scheduled comment to put these aliens back out into space and to release this eloquent poetess to save planet earth.

Tune in next week... when....

*static*

Well, what I really wanted to say is that I get this image of all these words in your head and even with this, as with everything you write, you seem to arrange them in such a manner.. well... it amazes a simple minded person such as myself. So many thoughts to ponder!!!!




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