Blog Manifesto

Blog Manifesto


This blog is dedicated, as the title would suggest, to the qualities of being young. We are young writers. We are playful and sensitive, fluid and changing. We are unashamed with our art. We wonder at the world, puzzle over the meanings of things and twirl in delight at images and ideas that float by, grabbing at them as they pass. We are curious and constantly inquiring and prying concepts open and taking assumptions apart. We are on the ground, close to the earth. We have bare feet and wiggle our toes into nature. We carry our blankies still and wrap up cozy and comfy with each other and tell ghost stories and shiver at creepy things. We laugh and we cry and we take a lot of naps, drained from our outings and exertions.

We write as gifts to each other, tying them up in ribbon and leaving them around for each other to find, hiding and waiting for the person to wake up and read. Surprise! We weave our stories together to create a bond. One writes, then the other. then another again. We have a shared reality that we have crafted, bit by piece by patch, by string. We write simple, honest authentic things, with our unique voices. You can tell each one of us from the other, without knowing who wrote what. Our voices are clear and gentle and original. We whisper and our personalities roar! Like children, our feelings are strong, our passion for what we write shakes us. We are moved and sometimes left breathless, by our own words or the words of each other. We cannonball into each others spaces. We fall backward into each others writing, like into a pile of leaves or a soft bed. We gobble and grin and ask for more. (footnote kudos to JC)

Then we go to bed, wake up to a new day and do it all over again!

Sunday, February 26, 2012

Loneliness



For a long time I kept myself to an even keel.  I felt busy, loved and secure in my little safe world.   It was small, but it was predictable, and I really cherished the quiet times for reflection. 

Then I found a group of cheerful people and I grew out towards their light a bit.  I became a little more sociable, chatted a bit more.    Even when I was trying to concentrate on the win, I would grab my chat box and text something in reply.

I grew to treasure and look forward to some of them.  grins You know who you are.  I was content to balance typing and playing and the lag of conversations was normal.  You got your talking done in small bites.

It is easy to keep it superficial when you just chat at the beginning and in between rounds.  Even so we managed to create deep meaningful relationships.

Then I fired up live chat.  OH SHIT.  it was like  Dorothy going over the rainbow into color.  The tones of voices, and the laughter. and the singing.  It is so beguiling.  After living in my own head for so long. I got giddy from it.  It was so much more than nice.  I sang.  My heart tore a bit.  Someone from my family  told me I couldn't sing;  to shut up.  My heart tore a big wide river of hurt.  I cried and got angry about it.  I want to sing.

Now I feel loneliness, and it isn't much fun.  I'm not on an even keel.   I don't like the silences.  I don't like playing pool in black and white anymore. I like Reese's giggle.  It is like the sun comes out. 

I don't like a huge cacophony in my head, but I do like my special peeps sounding off in my life.


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