seethingblue's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- writes of passage at fifteen we knew sonnets by heart, we wore eyeglasses, we were self-conscious about bringing home-packed lunches to school, were hesitant at parties, lingered near the food, the bathroom, and in doorways. when you read me peter pan on the tennis courts and when i didn't care whether my shoe laces were tied or not or where we were going as long as we were just going somewhere, sometimes i hear all that noise accumulating over the years and wonder why i never stopped to listen or write it all down i'm sick of hearing about boston and all the things you could do that you can't do now that you must drive to the nearest gas station or drive across roads that block your phone service and steal your minutes and this is not my culture is what i think as i find my way over root systems, busted pipes pouring on sidewalks, the tattered lawn because of too much heat or too much rain swept hair is all i want but i will never have it just like i will never have another conversation with people who steal my heart, burn my coffee, forget the extra napkins, never call again or never tell me what it was that was so hateful, held so much spite, wasn't enough to contain between two people, to stifle or feed or love. i'm just a mess and i want to write in structured paragraphs but be unafraid of telling people about the way i will always be liminal and lack communitas with some hapas some whites some asians some christians some straights some gays some middle-aged women some ten year-old girls some of my species some of another. sums sums sums. 21:21 - 17 October, 2003 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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