you know, i think so often it happens that we are going about in circles and circles and circles until one day we stop:::::: and then begin to go in a straight line.
the whole time thinking, whilst in these circles that we have begun or started or commenced with what we had intended.
realizing, our illusion, once a grand muse, is now a dying piece of sound and we stand, stripped, hopeless, lacking---silent.
Then, taking a step, or making a sound with our voice, that may very well be the first real one.
Something else happened too::: the other day I awoke to look in my closet and drawers and find my clothes no longer a reflection of myself. I told V about it and she agreed saying "this happens to me a lot". It came out of nowhere.
So we are going and going and going and stopping slightly to realize how much we have changed, what is different, our hair is longer and needs trimmed. We let things become us, jobs, ideas, clothes, rooms, books----
if we are not moving, buying, ridding of, we will wake someday living someone's life---
and it won't be ours.
What we really want or how we really feel, no matter how we push it away, will find us again and again and again.
i'm reading lots of books. i want to tell you about them. in French.
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