in conversation again

Posted: February 3, 2010 in DIALECTICS /often a talk with myself
Tags:

still having a great day?

no.. but am too lazy to change it
how does it matter anyways..

it matters for people like us. who keep tab on u from far. these letters n words are the only connection between us. to know you and not me.

how are you?

there is a root problem to the question of getting rooted. the start from the tree down the branches. and reaching out for the undergrowth. it wasn’t as it seemed all along. so to get rooted. one might argue. would be to lay hidden. or maybe not. but the chioce isn’t about the reaches one has. but rather the flaws of getting unrooted.

don’t ask me what i meant. maybe i wrote everything i meant. or maybe i was hiding it all. maybe i filled in the blanks and deleted the question.

where are you?

where am i?

wasn’t that a question they used to ask.
spoken about but never talked. into the silent corners of everyday life. laid down of the thick layers of habit. the gong never rang again. a jingle reminded of the still.

when are you coming?

scratches on the edge of the clouds poured the water down the hill.
crashed the building blocks.

did u get buried there? amongst the building blocks?

“after you were gone, you left me crying.
after you were gone, you left me dying.”

well that’s a great jazz song.
i was listenning to the woody allen version.

Ring-a-ring-a-roses,
A pocket full of posies;
Hush! hush! hush! hush!
We’re all tumbled down.

dkmcfawebhjk;jfh;ueaj;jbfhwjke;qhjku;rfhefjdeakwerkwafer;

how i wish that made sense to that. i really do. how i wish i could know read all that you never meant to say? each distorted alphabets of wimpful harmony. tiny edges of lost meaning. wish i could hear them all. wish i could find them all.

<BLANK>

remember the small chink that let the air in.
the vent of the suffocated heart.

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