I sit blinking in front of those words before the morning's first coffee is even finished.
They go straight in and stay, takes over the entire inside of my ribcage.
I have other notes in this journal, written just for me, laying here waiting.
But this, as it turns out, is what's most true to say first of all.
With this I go back to where I got lost in the first place, I think.
The road is damn dusty and it's messy and empty at the very same time.
In Gobi's vast landscape that should be silent and of freedom complete, a sandstorm
is roaring along and a million grains of sand whirl, obscuring the view.
Nothing more than a gram per grain, but a wall in instant presence.
When I opened up my Instagram this morning, with water for coffee on the boil,
everything was in such clear algorithm. Algorithm, - "that which with a
given basis, with absolute certainty leads to a given final state".
There was the sponsored content, advertising right in my face and
a makeup account I've never chosen to follow; with way too many
glassy gazes and the same ferocious contouring of uniform stark white
for volume & reddish brown for reshaping to all look the same
I feel sad before I've even had my first cup of coffee.
And then, Joan Didion, suddenly on the computer screen, as a counterbalance.
Amen, Joan. And Thank You.
My mama says I've always had a rich inner life.
Thereof Instagram becomes the Gobi desert. And perhaps more of you feel that too.
For some maybe it's frictionless..? Perhaps you have better character,
or is it stronger self-preservation {?}, - take in solely what you feel like
and then that's that and that's all. I'm no good at that.
I forget to put the mask on, to protect my eyes. Step one if you get caught in
a sandstorm. The other steps include looking for shelter, alternatively
getting to higher ground.. and that's my only chance.
The shelter is this, here. I LOVE being here.
Moreover, we got along beautifully for years under my last roof.
The alternative of taking to higher ground, - to look with perspective upon
myself and others, that feels so right too. From up there I can imagine
it's possible to glance down at a sandstorm and revel in the sight.
Helicopter views always render a surge of belly-deep freedom.
to give us back to ourselves
I think I love you, Joan.
And who better to serve as a goddess of the shelter..?
We start there. With those words.
is roaring along and a million grains of sand whirl, obscuring the view.
Nothing more than a gram per grain, but a wall in instant presence.
When I opened up my Instagram this morning, with water for coffee on the boil,
everything was in such clear algorithm. Algorithm, - "that which with a
given basis, with absolute certainty leads to a given final state".
There was the sponsored content, advertising right in my face and
a makeup account I've never chosen to follow; with way too many
glassy gazes and the same ferocious contouring of uniform stark white
for volume & reddish brown for reshaping to all look the same
I feel sad before I've even had my first cup of coffee.
And then, Joan Didion, suddenly on the computer screen, as a counterbalance.
Amen, Joan. And Thank You.
Thereof Instagram becomes the Gobi desert. And perhaps more of you feel that too.
For some maybe it's frictionless..? Perhaps you have better character,
or is it stronger self-preservation {?}, - take in solely what you feel like
and then that's that and that's all. I'm no good at that.
I forget to put the mask on, to protect my eyes. Step one if you get caught in
a sandstorm. The other steps include looking for shelter, alternatively
getting to higher ground.. and that's my only chance.
The shelter is this, here. I LOVE being here.
Moreover, we got along beautifully for years under my last roof.
The alternative of taking to higher ground, - to look with perspective upon
myself and others, that feels so right too. From up there I can imagine
it's possible to glance down at a sandstorm and revel in the sight.
Helicopter views always render a surge of belly-deep freedom.
to give us back to ourselves
I think I love you, Joan.
And who better to serve as a goddess of the shelter..?
We start there. With those words.
5 comments:
Thank you!!
thank Y O U ..!
x
Loooove to see you have coming back (a bit more)...I have missed you Honey. Really I have! Hope everything is fine in your side of the world...and I really hope you shy deer,do not flee right away :o*
Sending you a biiiiig hug and a smile!
x
t.
gotta start somewhere, darling..! ;)
thank you so much for your ever so generous words,
- & it is my pleasure to have you..!
*hahaha* don't think i've ever been called a 'shy deer' before.
there's a first for everything, i guess and perhaps i can be that too..! ;)
big hugs and smiles right back,
hannah
x
I am rereading your journals every time I need to breathe and get back to myself. I wish you would write a book one day so that I can pull it from my shelf any time.
Post a Comment