Now, separate- but related. Last night I was reading columns, blogs? I dunno. Online published writings by Gregory Sherl. I was reminded how much I love words. Language in general. Communication. I have often said that when I feel good it is because my veins are flowing with ink.
It is weird how things fall into place- connecting sometimes if you pay attention. Yesterday at work I decided to take a break outside. I usually do. Go outside. There are tables, with black metal chairs and umbrellas. So you are still in the sun, but not a direct hit. The chairs are always cool. And the tough metal feels good. There is one chair I usually try to avoid, it has a piece of metal that has been uplifted on the seat. It pokes up just enough to cause a snag in clothing. It has ripped a pair of my stockings before. On the back of my right thigh. I know it has done this to me, and I wasn't a fan, but sometimes I sit back on this chair anyway, fully aware I am doing it.
But, I went outside, and my co-worker was there, and she and I spoke. And every time we do, it is just like we dive into a wonderful conversation, with no fake "how are yous" or "oh I'm fine" or "blah-blah-stupid." We just start communicating genuinely. We smile. We laugh. We enjoy each other's company.
You know when you are done talking to, or listening to someone and you just feel better? You feel like you connected? It is about connecting. Reaching each other.
In Fight Club, the Narrator references "single serving friends." I think that has merit. Sometimes in instances of single serving friends we do what I try SO HARD to do all the time -> just let down the walls. With the single serving friends we are fearless. We have no fear because we won't see this person again. We can be free and as much of ourselves as we are when are alone. Free of judgement- or completely judgmental- who cares- we won't see them again. After this encounter? Done.
But my point is maybe, fear of communication inhibits growth.
I don't know really. I feel like I'm going off on a strange tangent now. But it is okay. Maybe this is an honest glimpse into how my thought process works sometimes and if you are confused, it is okay too, usually I am confused.
So, I have been reading a lot lately. Soaking it in. Random stuff. One site I like is The Good Men Project. I went on last night, and the Editor's Picks took me to Gregory Sherl. I read one article/column/blog/beautiful word poetry of awesomeness that he wrote, and after reading it 3 more times because I loooooved his word use, I found a link to his website, then a link to all his Good Men Project articles. And I read them all. Some more than once. I sat for a good hour and half at least. It reminded me of when my friend R.J. posted a stellar short story by Amy Hempel (Here it is if anyone cares: http://wolfweb.unr.edu/homepage/calabj/298/The_Most_Girl_Part_of_You.pdf) and someone, I apologize as I don't recall if it was R.J. or one of his friends, captured it so well with the phrase "This Woman can write a fucking sentence." I remember it took me time to read the story because I was soaking in the words. I bought a collection of her shorts stories and I am still enjoying it. And yes, she can write a fucking sentence. So well.
I know very few things for sure.
I know if I walk by my cats, I am going to reach out and pet them. And probably say something to them in unison.
I know if I hear a baby or small child crying at Disneyland, I am going to laugh.
I know if you put Avocado on anything, it will make it taste better.
I know that if you want me to learn something, you should probably teach it to me via song.
I know that I should (even If I always don't) tell people how I feel because I think in the end, sometimes that is all we have.
I read Gregory Sherl's words last night and I wished a few things. I wished I wrote more. I wished I let myself be vulnerable more. I wished I was a better writer, that I tried more. It made me wish I called people more. That I put in a better effort. I wanted to pick up the phone at 11:00p.m. on a Monday night and just call people up and say "HEY! I miss you. That's it." or, "Hey, you make me happy, because..." I wanted to go show up at people's doors and hug them. Some people's doors are very far away. But I wanted to go to their doors. I wanted to hear voices. I also wished I texted less and called more.
This morning one of the people I was thinking of, she texted me. Crazy psychic brain powers, FTW!
I believe in the Bat Signal. A lot of you are My Batman. Or if you prefer, you can be another cool superhero. I just dig Batman. Even if you aren't reading this, I'm still talking to you. And I'll call soon. <3
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