Getting Personal

Postcard above taken from: PostSecret.




I frequent this blog because it is clever. sweet and makes me smile. This postcard in particular hit a little close. It is my favorite.
It's personal.

I connected with whoever wrote it. I would have not made a connection if I had not read it online. I often argue that I wish the internet never existed. Today I found out why. I never really knew how to properly express my thoughts when presented with an argument. A reoccurring trouble of mine. The other end almost always would make one of their main points about "connecting" Connecting to who exactly? My final statement is this: if a computer screen is what it means to connect or make connections then we are more disconnected then ever.

random "personal" thought.

and further more:

new notebooks. Written by Sujeylee


a new clean sheet
crisp and blank
it smells untouched
then it begins with tiny flutters of vacant orifices and sinking in we say: I have nothing to offer being me (diminutive silent observer hit with gasping unknowns)

i do believe that hope is a series of sounds creeping into ears at night
causing stirs in slumber airs

shift and struggle

writhing various body parts remind us we are still attached and alive
it opens and it shuts and continues until we are unable to tell the difference
sweeping floods, chilled waters dreamt up by something fleeting
simple
too simple
we are not attached


i am saying this because i do not feel it
it is always with excuses, explanations and glances something we are suppose to believe, yet completely out of physical grasp
full of simple banality (this i know, but it does not make it untrue)
a constant battle between the generations
all i see are muted colors, desperation floating into trees like ghosts and my sallow reflection thinking i can make it perfect with time

another false concept to slide around
i resent it because it feels like waiting


wading in its tricky comforts. wait and breath. another reminder. i am indeed attached.