Mr Talk Too Much
10 August 2005 11:07![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
amulHey there, Mr Talk Too Much / what's in store for us now?
I don't think I ever told Roo, but I considered that to be Our Song. She introduced me to Milla's singing, and Gentleman Who Fell just seemed to describe the difficulties we had all too well.
I don't know how to speak to you / I don't know how to trust you
I don't kow how to live for you / I don't know how to love you
the gentleman who fell before the court
Wicked Kitten came over last night for Dinner. We seem to have developed a habit of only having dinner when both of us are experiencing turmoil of some kind or another. They're never related, but there's always been pointed similarities. "It's not really parallels," WK fumbled for the right word. More like perpendiculars?
Our lives have been utterly at odds, and and on those rare moments when there is a chord struck between experiences, we focus on completely different parts of the picture. She looks within and I always seem to seek outside of myself.
"It's hard for me to imagine," she whuffles, "that there's someone who fears the places I feel safest in. For me, the fight is in being social, in going out."
I've just told her that I'm running from the silence, that it's been four days since I was alone, and how I was making plans to hang out with people even while Roo was packing her suitcase. I called Blue Beard from the airport as she stood at Curbside, then the party, the lunch with another friend, and out, out, out running errands, until WK came for dinner.
"There's a difference," she tells me, "in fearing to be alone versus being lonely."
I just sigh and tell her I am not half the man I want to be, and that maybe this is inherent to who I am, that however much I grow or accomplish, I will just imperceptibly push that red ribbon further away, so that the end line is always in sight and always out of reach.
"If that's true, then it's also true that you've never been less than halfway to your goal."
I'm writing this poorly. I'm writing her words as if I were saying them, when there's such a rich flavor to her dialect and mannerisms, when there's a particularly playful character to her speech that was the whole point of writing this. Do I write everyone this way, as just another mouth out of which my own words come?
I want to convey it properly, they way all of my friends speak. The particular mannerisms that make each one so uniquely him- or herself.
Knows The Length of Her Shirt called yesterday, too. Somehow her phone, in the process of getting lost, stolen and returned, mucked up my phone number and Achingly Defiant's. She said a thing, too, about needing to choose between going back to school and finding a new job, and the wording of it was just so utterly her. But I can only hear my own way of phrasing it in my head.
Just another way in which I am not yet who I want to be.
*sigh* There is so much left to do, to become. I'm only halfway there so far, and I think that's the farthest I'll ever get.
I don't think I ever told Roo, but I considered that to be Our Song. She introduced me to Milla's singing, and Gentleman Who Fell just seemed to describe the difficulties we had all too well.
I don't know how to speak to you / I don't know how to trust you
I don't kow how to live for you / I don't know how to love you
the gentleman who fell before the court
Wicked Kitten came over last night for Dinner. We seem to have developed a habit of only having dinner when both of us are experiencing turmoil of some kind or another. They're never related, but there's always been pointed similarities. "It's not really parallels," WK fumbled for the right word. More like perpendiculars?
Our lives have been utterly at odds, and and on those rare moments when there is a chord struck between experiences, we focus on completely different parts of the picture. She looks within and I always seem to seek outside of myself.
"It's hard for me to imagine," she whuffles, "that there's someone who fears the places I feel safest in. For me, the fight is in being social, in going out."
I've just told her that I'm running from the silence, that it's been four days since I was alone, and how I was making plans to hang out with people even while Roo was packing her suitcase. I called Blue Beard from the airport as she stood at Curbside, then the party, the lunch with another friend, and out, out, out running errands, until WK came for dinner.
"There's a difference," she tells me, "in fearing to be alone versus being lonely."
I just sigh and tell her I am not half the man I want to be, and that maybe this is inherent to who I am, that however much I grow or accomplish, I will just imperceptibly push that red ribbon further away, so that the end line is always in sight and always out of reach.
"If that's true, then it's also true that you've never been less than halfway to your goal."
I'm writing this poorly. I'm writing her words as if I were saying them, when there's such a rich flavor to her dialect and mannerisms, when there's a particularly playful character to her speech that was the whole point of writing this. Do I write everyone this way, as just another mouth out of which my own words come?
I want to convey it properly, they way all of my friends speak. The particular mannerisms that make each one so uniquely him- or herself.
Knows The Length of Her Shirt called yesterday, too. Somehow her phone, in the process of getting lost, stolen and returned, mucked up my phone number and Achingly Defiant's. She said a thing, too, about needing to choose between going back to school and finding a new job, and the wording of it was just so utterly her. But I can only hear my own way of phrasing it in my head.
Just another way in which I am not yet who I want to be.
*sigh* There is so much left to do, to become. I'm only halfway there so far, and I think that's the farthest I'll ever get.
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no subject
Date: 10 Aug 2005 16:30 (UTC)I want to convey it properly, they way all of my friends speak. The particular mannerisms that make each one so uniquely him- or herself.
that's something that always frustrates me (i've mentioned that too), these fascinating stories and thoughts and ideas about people that i can't really express, and the stories end up falling flat when i try to tell them. but you--you might not be able to capture exactly what was said in terms of manner and wording and tone...but you're a good storyteller.
i guess i do respond to your posts a good bit. i'm all lj-ish today.
no subject
Date: 10 Aug 2005 17:05 (UTC)no subject
Date: 10 Aug 2005 16:43 (UTC)no subject
Date: 10 Aug 2005 17:04 (UTC)A common theme I hear from my friends.
words in my mouth
Date: 10 Aug 2005 23:16 (UTC)Re: words in my mouth
Date: 11 Aug 2005 19:10 (UTC)We seem to achieve that.