"No," I said. "One is most eloquent when there is nothing left to say." And I walked away from her and shut the door quietly between us before the silence could follow me into the hall.

I don't know why, but

funerals remind me of the south. in my mind, that's where they all happen. a tiny old chapel in the middle of nowhere when it's too hot to cry and everyone's just waiting for the potluck buffet in the church basement with the child-sized bathrooms.

speak up.

we all have so many stories to tell all the time, but we're incapable of listening to the stories of others. someone could be telling us who they are and why they are and their meaning in life and we won't be able to hear it because no one can tell their own stories properly. no one can understand their own stories, espeicially because they lived them. and because no one really cares about anyone else.

[from 7/11/10]

sometimes I think we should have just moved to georgia when we had the chance.

From "On Turning Ten"

"It seems only yesterday I used to believe

there was nothing under my skin but light.

If you cut me I would shine.

But now I fall upon the sidewalks of life,

I skin my knees. I bleed."

and quote

why do the young seem fearless? why do the young appear to have a sense of invincibility?

It's because, when you're young, everything hurts so much. It all matters so much. Everything is life or death with no hope of recovery or a loophole. We are completely in tune with our mortality but, instead of frightening us, it also fuels our passions and weaknesses. It is who we are. We know that we must do what matters even if it matters only to us and only for a moment becasue to do otherwise is to waste our lives waiting. Waiting for something that cannot exist unless we stop waiting and create it.

Those who question us are those who are still waiting. Youth is only wasted on the young by the elders we obey when our hearts cry out to run and live. We cannot wait. We will grow old and lose our chances. Every moment we live is a measure the swan songs of our deaths.

end quote.

[earlymorning.junetwentieth.twothousandandten.commonera]

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