Whimpers, Bangs, and Voyeurism
naked and unbound (where else you'll find me)
It seems I had a reader I didn't know about, who rightly pointed out the lack of conclusion in the Emily story. Well, the conclusion is, in fact, the lack of conclusion. We never spoke, wrote, or laid eyes on each other again since that night. And just as well. After only a little time and consideration I recognized the fruitlessness of the situation. We were definitely from very different worlds, and I'm not sure either of us would have been able to make the other happy for more than a few short seconds at a time. Today being December first, she should actually be left the province by now, off to her super-secret job that has something vague to do with national security. I didn't intentionally avoid her store during this past month, but as chance would have it I was only in there a couple of times, and she wasn't there when I was.
Not much eventful has been going on, and what has I've mostly written about in my journal rather than here. I guess to me the blog is for when I have something to say but not much, and the journal is for when I want it to be as meaningful to readers as it was to me, and I'm willing to put the effort into the writing required to do so.
The one thing I did write, which I keep forgetting to post, was a poem I did recently called "submission", regarding submitting poems to competitions, which, in my usual egotistical way, I think is the cleverest thing since sliced bread. Of course, that could just be all that spam from Poetry.com swelling my head. By both Email and snail-mail, I've been assured pretty much weekly that there's an international poetry crisis, and they're counting on my talents to save the world. That and my donation. But hey, if I want that special silver bowl award, they'll need to cover the shipping and handling, right?
And you thought the commercialization of Xmas was bad. =p
It seems I had a reader I didn't know about, who rightly pointed out the lack of conclusion in the Emily story. Well, the conclusion is, in fact, the lack of conclusion. We never spoke, wrote, or laid eyes on each other again since that night. And just as well. After only a little time and consideration I recognized the fruitlessness of the situation. We were definitely from very different worlds, and I'm not sure either of us would have been able to make the other happy for more than a few short seconds at a time. Today being December first, she should actually be left the province by now, off to her super-secret job that has something vague to do with national security. I didn't intentionally avoid her store during this past month, but as chance would have it I was only in there a couple of times, and she wasn't there when I was.
Not much eventful has been going on, and what has I've mostly written about in my journal rather than here. I guess to me the blog is for when I have something to say but not much, and the journal is for when I want it to be as meaningful to readers as it was to me, and I'm willing to put the effort into the writing required to do so.
The one thing I did write, which I keep forgetting to post, was a poem I did recently called "submission", regarding submitting poems to competitions, which, in my usual egotistical way, I think is the cleverest thing since sliced bread. Of course, that could just be all that spam from Poetry.com swelling my head. By both Email and snail-mail, I've been assured pretty much weekly that there's an international poetry crisis, and they're counting on my talents to save the world. That and my donation. But hey, if I want that special silver bowl award, they'll need to cover the shipping and handling, right?
And you thought the commercialization of Xmas was bad. =p
posted by unfoldingsoul at 9:09 AM
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