Untitled Slush -

The stuff in the bottom of your blue icee before it melts. _-The Lesbian Writers Guild at UCSD-_

Saturday, March 11, 2006

Untitled Trash: Forgive Me

I never realized I had sent Em an email. I had clicked on accident the button that said saved drafts. I immediately hit the back arrow, but in the milliseconds between page loads her name was surrounded by a faint familiar aura, and curiosity took care of the rest.

How silly I was back then! I think I must have seemed young and almost fanatical. I hope I didn’t cause any irreparable damage. The way I was using humour is, I am sure, illegal. In what way could she have possibly replied?

This is the second time today that this has happened. (Or, rather, the third… I seem to remember rereading another email sent more recently. And as I reread this, I am reminded of a fourth, and the possibility of a fifth now lingers…)

I think I am different today, but I know I make the same mistake every time I communicate without knowing why, impatiently initiating “meaningful” contact because I cannot contain the impulse within, which is not in itself a bad thing, but it gives me regret when I write on a whim, despite the tension I sense, and send it too soon, knowing, as I walk my path, that if I had waited, and as the path branches past, I would have considered my message, and its urgency, irrelevant, redundant, unnecessary.

So I apologize for being brash. And I wish to thank you, for granting me freedom, and by resisting, perhaps, the urge to chastise me after receiving my wholly inadequate contact.


At 5:18 AM, Blogger wolfrog said...

How incredibly vague, without grounding, confusing, and disjointed. Well within the realm of experimental writing. Good work?


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