And what can I say? That I want to cut out and frame your article? Yes, yes, my god, and put it by the doorway above the floormat so anybody who wipes his feet before entering my "place" catches the first lines before stepping inward. Like a "NO TRESPASSING" or "BEWARE OF DOGS" sign.
I'm not even joking.
"Caught between the memories of a home left, and the hopes of a home never arrived at, you’re forced to swear citizenship to a space of eternal nostalgia, or repeated regret, or unwavering hope."
Hay that piece was so difficult to write. And mostly for personal reasons. Sometimes, writing unravels our deepest most painful sides to ourselves, and one is always tempted to pretend what has not seen, or to cover what has actually been just uncovered.
I was actually wondering who it would be talking to. That my "illness" was entirely my own.
Apparently, history has crept its tendrils to your heart too.
I want to talk to you, but I'm not sure about what. haha
It's Mina. Running into you earlier made me update my blog again :) You asked me if I was still writing. The truth is, I haven't written in months. And although I've been telling myself that I want to write again, it's only now that I actually did.
"Bullfighting, it seems to me, gives us a clue. Kill the beast by all means, they say, but make it a contest, a ritual, and honour your antagonist for his strength adn bravery. eat him too, after you have vanquished him. Look him in the eyes before you kill him, and thank him afterwards. Sing songs about him.
4 Comments:
Dear Larry,
I just read your "Running In Place" piece.
And what can I say? That I want to cut out and frame your article? Yes, yes, my god, and put it by the doorway above the floormat so anybody who wipes his feet before entering my "place" catches the first lines before stepping inward. Like a "NO TRESPASSING" or "BEWARE OF DOGS" sign.
I'm not even joking.
"Caught between the memories of a home left, and the hopes of a home never arrived at, you’re forced to swear citizenship to a space of eternal nostalgia, or repeated regret, or unwavering hope."
Ayu-ayo,
Frances Cabahug
Frances,
Hay that piece was so difficult to write. And mostly for personal reasons. Sometimes, writing unravels our deepest most painful sides to ourselves, and one is always tempted to pretend what has not seen, or to cover what has actually been just uncovered.
I was actually wondering who it would be talking to. That my "illness" was entirely my own.
Apparently, history has crept its tendrils to your heart too.
I want to talk to you, but I'm not sure about what. haha
Till the next,
Sir Larry,
It's Mina. Running into you earlier made me update my blog again :) You asked me if I was still writing. The truth is, I haven't written in months. And although I've been telling myself that I want to write again, it's only now that I actually did.
So thank you :)
If you want, you can visit at boknay.blogspot.com
Mina :)
Hi Lar. Chai here. just popping by.
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