Love in the time of...

"Most people deceive themselves with a pair of faiths:
they believe in eternal memory
(of people, things, deeds, nations)
and in redressibility
(of deeds, mistakes, sins, wrongs).
Both are false faiths.
In reality the opposite is true:
everything will be forgotten
and nothing will be redressed."

-Milan Kundera


It's around this time of year

It's around this time of year
that the dust gathers itself
and starts its not-so-silent march
back into the memories of the people that so diligently
laid those little bunnies to rest

It's around this time of year
that the shades of pink that break
through the gray of the horizon, seem so
precious, so rare
people are grateful for their trying

It's around this time of year
that the ability to keep up one's appearances -
leg hair, face care routine, hair washing, smile words and smile faces -
hits the snooze, again, and grumbles about
needing more time

This time of year is when we get it;

It is around this time of year that we waste it.

No one expects to hear a thing here

because I have been so inactive for so long. I think as the masses of voices started to take over the airwaves back in late 2004/early 2005, I felt it was a good time to retreat. And there's always the question of when it is appropriate to wear a veil of anonymity. Frankly, I stopped wanting to establish a particular voice online once I got about 4 months into it, back in early 2004. I saw how things were going to go down. Brand yourself through your posts and profile, etc. etc. or be of little consequence. I didn't want to pay the cost of that kind of labor.

Now that there are so many voices out there, with well established online identities, I think I can go back to why I liked blogging in the first place; it was a little space where I could work-out the constant thinking going on inside my head. Granted, I've calmed down with age (ugh, 4 years is a long time), so I might not post as much now as I did back then, but oh well. I am reading and writing this as a conversation with my shadow. Feel free to watch. Or not. Shadows don't have feelings.