Posted by: scintillatingspeck | October 29, 2015

Flotsam.

Crumbs of minutiae.  Is there a point in describing them?

What is the point in each scintillating speck?  There is no point.  The point is not the point.

I don’t know if there’s any reality beyond representation, sensory impressions, neuronal interpretations.

I made a peach clafoutis today, though.  Real enough.  Maybe that’s the next step beyond “good enough”: real enough.

I’m reading “Alone Together” by Sherry Turkle.  It’s the kind of homework I give myself.

We visited friends, and had dinner with them, and that had a good solidity to it.

I’m pretty sure I’m off the radar already for a whole bunch of people.  It gives me anxiety.

I need to confront my relational baggage.  I don’t know if it makes any sense to write these things, here.  But I’ve always found it’s most sensible to heed my heart.

I don’t want to maintain an image.  I want a direct line, heart to heart, eye to eye, probably mouth to mouth in some cases.

I’m making room for I-don’t-know-what.

 

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Responses

  1. Jen – Your last few posts stirred up a bunch of thoughts for me. It may yet be another day or three before I put them in writing and send them to you. Just wanted you to know.

  2. Thanks, Jen, for allowing me the privilege of joining you on this journey/adventure through your amazing words! I send my love to you and Lily!


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