I am so mad at you. I feel that no matter what I do, in how many ways I try to prove you my good intentions, what I get (and what I'll always get) is nothing more than a second hand opinion on who I am and why I do things. You don't see me. You will never see me. Then why the fuck bother? Why try to please? Why even converse with a person that uses me as a blank screen to project his obsessions onto? When everything I have ever done for you is disregarded because I would not play snitch, and brushed aside because what matters is my relation to your obsession, then why try? Did you see me, the person, even for a single moment in this long sad story? I doubt it.
All I have to do is close this chapter too. You are only meant to do me harm, whether it is a conscious choice or not. So I will just leave you behind. And this will confirm your suspicions, but no matter what I do, it will confirm the wrong suspicions. I will therefore exit the scene, and hopefully I will do it with some grace.
Ahh, Ms Jester of the Dark Blue Persuasion,
ReplyDeleteWhat a delightful wordsmith you are – you take words, phrases and evocative images and fling them into the air, just to watch them tumble about. But she is so adept! “How does she do that?” they gasp, noting that none of your aerial plaything ever hit the ground, but gyrate and weave like dust motes on a sunny but windy day. As a master juggler amazes on many levels, not only with quantity of balls, but with her imaginative ways of exciting and propelling them as they fly about her, you friend Elizabeth, you are a wonder!
I would be honored if you would stop by my blog:
ArtQuest1.blogspot.com
and leave a kinetic comment.
Thank you for posting. Bob