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Naked Blathering

We've Moved Too!

8.18.2006

All us little blatherings can be found at http://nakedblathering.wordpress.com. Oh yeah, and we have some new blatherings there to. May the blatherings multiply!


Idea

4.24.2006

365 Days: Excerpts from a Life in Progress


Goodbye

3.13.2006

I thought I was leaving you for the day.

Turned out, you were leaving me for forever.

I thought I'd never love again.

Turned out, I was wrong.

Saying goodbye to you was hard.

Saying thank-you is impossible.

So I'll just say goodbye.


It's all just a bunch of junk

2.23.2006

Watch what you say there. It might be junk, but it's my junk. Those are my memories.

I remember the telephones. Me downstairs on the stool. My sister upstairs. I'd ring the bell. We'd chat on the phones.

I remember the typewriter. I used to type. Just type. Nothing in particular. But what fun to hear the hum of the typewriter, the clicking of the keys, the clacking of the arms as they bounced up to punch the letters in ink on the paper.

I remember the sunshine on the ceiling. Yellow rays of light painted on a blue background.

I remember the old computers. Searching and always moving in circles, trying to find objects. Make the computer do what I told it to do. Except I wasn't telling it right. Couldn't ever find the lantern.

I remember the piano. Trying to play. Wanting my grandmother to think I played pretty. Listening to the old metronome tick and keep the beat.

I remember the swing set. That old metal set in the backyard. The wooden seat. The double-swing. The monkey bars. Climbing up.

I remember dressing up. Playing. Pretending. I was the princess.

I remember waking up early on Sunday so I could ride the bus. A stop at the donut shop. Picking up all the other kids. Offering everyone a donut.

I remember sitting in your lap. In the big comfy chair. In your office. Your mustache tickled my face. Your belly was soft. Your arms were strong and warm.

I remember all the junk. But it's my junk. My memories. My history. Part of who I am. Don't call it junk.


Give me a topic


Give me a topic and I'll write on it. It can be anything. I have a wide array of useless knowledge. And if I don't know about it, I'll find out. And I'll give you my best opinion. I need to purge. But I'm blocked. I have feelings, words, thoughts filled up to here. But they won't come out. They're all occupying the same space. Soon, they'll all be piled up on each other. And one of the stacks will come tumbling down. And then there will be a giant mess. You don't want me to have to pick through that mess, do you? I didn't think so. So give me a topic. Commission a work.


Free

11.08.2005

From today's OneWord exercise:

I'm free from him. All the pain he caused is gone. All the tears he brought are gone. I'm free. My soul is flying. Released from those bonds that held me down. I can do anything. I will not let him take me back down ever again. I'm free.


Pushed

11.05.2005

From today's OneWord exercise:

Pushed to my limits. That's what I am. Clean your room! Fold your clothes! Stop tattle-tale-ing! Frustration. It's unnerving. I don't like to yell. But I'm pushed to it. How many times do I have to repeat myself?!? Once. That's it.


Laugh

11.03.2005

From today's OneWord exercise:

He makes me laugh. I feel relaxed. Little things that he does make me smile. He'll say something not meaning to be funny, but it just is. And I love his laugh. It's a great laugh. Full of life and energy. It's real. He's real.