Wednesday, August 3, 2011






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9 comments:

  1. I am a writer.August 3, 2011 at 8:50 AM

    I'm actually very much looking forward to the Eddie Izzard interview.

    No spoilers, please.


    "...The thing I remember most about my trip was how different the world could be. All of the assumptions that I made were challenged. Not everyone thought and acted like me. Was a kind of a shock like a cold shower is a shock when you are expecting a nice warm one.

    It still looked like the world but different.


    And now I will tell you a secret.

    I once had a friend who, if you could have looked deep in my heart, I thought hung the moon and the stars. He once said to me, "You know I don't understand your fella. If he were me, I'd not like that he was calling so much.

    There was nothing I could say. Coward that I was, I couldn't tell him that if he'd just ask. Given me something real to back it up? I'd be with him now.

    But we were so far apart. I guess that we both lacked the courage to cross the bridge one way or the other. At least that's what I thought until the day I did cross the bridge and found that I was the courageous one.

    Now?

    I sit here at the computer surrounded by my books and my dogs and I miss that man. I don't wonder how things might have been different because after all this time I've come to realize that "mourning" won't bring him back. Instead I pray that God might find some kindness here.

    I miss my friend who should have been ...

    LOL

    Not a very good secret? Ah well, I did leave out the private parts. It wouldn't have been right to disclose the way that man made me feel when his lips met mine.

    Magics..."


    c anne ford

    8-2-11


    The thing about elipses is that they are meant to show that there are specific words missing. If this were mathmatics, they'd be represented by a letter "a" or a letter "b" or "c".

    But the dash? A true awkward pause in grammar if there ever was one? It would be more of an "x", "y", oe "z". I know, I know, the moment is filled with something. There's these out of focus, deep feeling but there are no words left out. As a matter of fact, that's the problem. If there were words to describe those feelings they'd probably be said or at the very least thought.

    But there are no words, just the awkward pause and that is represented by a "-" (dash).

    ..."

    c anne ford 8-2-11

    ReplyDelete
  2. I am a writer.August 3, 2011 at 8:52 AM

    So good morning, noon, or night.

    Today I am thinking about my absent friend.

    Wondeering if there is enough life left in me to go see.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I am a writer.August 3, 2011 at 9:03 AM

    ...
    "...It's been a mystery to me. Love.


    I look at relationships and wonder< "Wha' the heck are they thinking? They profess love, true love, to one but then marry another. I blame their childhood, their parents, and their lack of courage. Then my heart softens and I blame the "manic depressive" nature of our emotions. (Please notice that I put "manic depressive" into quotes before some one ASSumes a diagnosis. LOL.)

    I dunno maybe I should blame the motheres for this.

    That naggin inner voice that says, "Be practical." or "Be a dreamer." When you should be saying, "Be real."

    Dunno.

    What I do know is that there is a time when you should throw all that out the window and just take a deep breath of it. Tell yourself, "This happy that you feel. You've tested and tested and tested it to the point that surely by now you know it's real.

    Then jump into it with abandon.

    The worst that could happen is that you tried it and were wrong but you'd know for sure. The wear and tear on your heart from the trying isn't near as bad as the wondering. Or worse the responsible choices that some how are as rich and fullfilling as vapor..."


    c anne ford
    work in progress

    8-2-11


    Going back to listen to that French song in the blog above. Lots of enegry in that song.

    Hugs and smooches, love.

    I can say that now even if it's just to myself.

    .

    ReplyDelete
  4. I am a writer.August 3, 2011 at 9:07 AM

    .

    I'd write you a poem but you said that a person who's never sold their words wasn't a writer.

    I'd sing you a song but you said that a person who sang off key was more the catterwalling cat on the back fence at midnight than a singer.

    I'd give you my heart but you said that hearts were pumps and not bags of emotions. "If I needed a pump, I'd buy one from the hardware or put myself on the donor's list.

    So I didn't give you a poem, sing you a song, or give you my heart.


    "Be practical,"said my mom, "that's real life."


    C anne ford

    8-2-11

    ReplyDelete
  5. I am a writer.August 3, 2011 at 9:19 AM

    "

    The thing is, Casey, I yelled at him. He said that he wanted to get to know me. The real me. I was so unhappy and so cynical that I lashed out. "You want to know me? Well send me flowers." I demanded not even beginning to expect them.

    He did the most amazing thing. Instead of sniping back he just asked, "What kind do you like." I was sheel shocked. Where was the bitterness I knew as love? This was sweet and gentle. I could hear typing on the other end and then his lovely voice say, "Okay. There you go. Accept them or not they've been sent.


    They were beautiful I tried to keep them alive, to root them like my grandmother had done to roses that my PawPaw sent her. They did pretty good until that unforseen frost. The bitter cold was just too much for them and they died..."

    c anne ford

    8-2-11

    work in progress


    I have to go feed the dogs. Go out in the heat and make sure that the plants get water. I'll come back in hot and sweaty. Tired. There'll be a shower to wash off the grime. I'll put a load of clothes in the wash. Then I'll fold the clean ones that were in the dryer. Put up the clean dishes and put the dirty in the dishwasher. Make lunch. Eat lunch. Then more clothes in the washer and dryer. Then I'll see what's up on the computer and rest. Maybe read a bit between more washing and drying of clothes. I'm reading Wasteland a compilation of short stories about the apocolypse.

    Then there's supper and sleep.

    Somewhere in there I'll watch the repeats of last night's llshow. Hugs the dogs and the kid.

    I'll do this and I'll regret that I didn't stay put and write.

    That durn realtiy can be pesky.

    .

    Hugs.

    AuthorAnn

    .

    ReplyDelete
  6. I am a writer.August 3, 2011 at 9:24 AM

    .

    She remembered waking up and hearing him breathing. Actually she felt it first then heard it. It wasn't light yet but it was late. Winter time the sun didn't come up as soon. He had his arm wrapped around her and his mouth was there next to her ear. In her mind, she floated up out of her body to see the room. The peat still buring in the fire place. It was warm and dark and not at all like the guest bed room she'd slept in the night before.

    "If you could go back in time and saw yourself ccoming, where would you tell yourself to be going?"

    "Home," I'd tell myself to go home." she whispered. "The thing is that home isn't exactly where I thought it was supposed to be and was instead right there in that moment."

    ...."


    c anne ford

    8-2-11


    work in progress


    .

    ReplyDelete
  7. I am a writer.August 3, 2011 at 9:40 AM

    Disclaimer.

    Any resemblance of my stories above to your life is coincedental. Unless- you are Irish and I knew you. In that case we might need to talk.

    LOL

    Thing is that like Jung said there is a kind of collective experience to us as humans. So with so many humans there's a statistical probability that we might have the same shared expereiences of say sleep and sex.

    Doesn't mean it's the same someone thought.

    LOL

    .

    ReplyDelete
  8. I am a writer.August 3, 2011 at 9:45 AM

    And yes.

    The thing about the flowers? True.

    The thing about about, "If you were mine, I'd not like someone like me calling you so much..."

    True.

    ...



    "...There are two kinds of elipses. There is the "the words are missing" elipse which looks like this ,"...", and the "the rest of the sentence, paragraph, or story" is missing which looks like "...." One is uses in the middle and the other at the end."


    c anne ford

    8-2-11

    ReplyDelete
  9. I am a writer.August 3, 2011 at 9:56 AM

    ...Work in progress...

    ReplyDelete

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