secrets luck is green i've got two secrets, found them in my shoe one was red and the other was... blue... keep them in my head, and feed them twice a day never let them out cuz one of them might stray... -fs 011009 ... flux i guess the proper first verse was more like "i've got two secrets found them in a dream one was red and the other was green". and fs was "frog sandwich". wish i could find out whatever did happen to them.. there's a kalx playlist from 1992, which is the right era.. so they've been on the air, but not in 12 years! and i just bought a cd from .. europe, somewhere, by the same title.. though i have no way of knowing if it's the same group.. until it gets here, in two weeks.. 040519 ... flux mm_hm. it's the same group all right.. moved to berlin. music.. isn't of the same quality. i still think i'm gonna write them a letter, though. 040831 ... nom dreams 070103 ... Isaou I know too much, secrets I shouldn't know it's hurting me I can't go on like this fucking pain Secrets I don't want to know 070520 ... flux http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vLjpOJhwX50 110725 ... tender_square she texted her mother a secret last night because she never has enough privacy to talk openly on the phone. whenever she visits, it’s always with him. she wouldn’t have admitted so much at this moment, but the situation called for clarity. it all started when she asked her mother, “what do you want for your birthday?” “you to stay here for good,” her mother replied. she hadn’t lived in her hometown, near her parents, for eleven years; now there had been talk of coming home, him in tow. lately, they are on different pages about their transition plan. he may not want to go through the immigration paperwork after all. she figured he’d want to live in this new place for good, otherwise why go through the trouble? he feels pressured to change more in his life after experiencing the upheavals of loss; even positive change is feared. “i want nothing more but to be there,” she replied. “i don’t want to live here anymore. it’s complicated.” she continued: “i’m in a situation where i can’t be fully honest about what i want because of what he needs right now.” and the coup de grace: “what i will say is this: in the years to come, i will be returning there to live for good. whether or not that will with him remains to be seen. if we have different wants, i don’t see how we move past this.” it was the first indication she had ever given her mother that fissures were forming in her marriage. 211208 ... kerry "you're the only person i've told about this," EJ said to me. we were sitting on a bench in a park in savannah, canopied by spanish moss. the curtains of moss looked like long white beards under the streetlights. we were wearing dresses and heels, something i rarely do, because we'd driven down to south georgia for a wedding. "i'm scared you're going to hate him," she said, "i hope you don't think less of me for staying." it was a big, ugly secret. earlier that day EJ had led me and mary kathryn and amy on an impromptu tour of historic savannah. we went to juliette gordon low's birthplace. we stood patiently as she read the placards on statues and fountains. we crept quietly through an antique print and poster shop and ate shrimp and grits at a restaurant listed on every "must-see" guide. the night before, we'd shared a bed, something we had done before, and she said it was fine that i snored because she had earplugs, and since she loved me, my snoring couldn't possibly be that bad. she read a book, whispering the words to herself, as i fell asleep. sitting close together on the bench she fixated her bright blue eyes into the dark, looking at something i couldn't see. "that's why he's been gone for months. he's had an ankle monitor on. did you know workhouses still exist?" then she said, "if it seems like i've been hiding it's because i was. i am. i can't tell anyone. the people who do know have left, cut him off. even his own brother said he's dead to him." we were quiet, and i found myself listening to our breaths as they harmonized. "if anything," i said, "i really feel for him. no one wants to be that way." she burst into tears. said "thank you, thank you, that's what i've needed to hear." 211208 ... tender_square “i keep secrets out of love for him, out of wanting to protect him.” “why can’t you take him into what’s happening to you? why can’t you show him that you’ve been crying when you’re with me, for instance?” “because to do so would render things ‘unstable,’” she used to air quotes around the word for emphasis, as this was his way of describing his desire, for the ebbs and flows of life to plateau. in hospitals, when a patient was hooked up to a heart monitor, if the peaks and valleys of a beating breast ceased it was a flatline. “but life isn’t stable.” “i know.” she exhaled sharply. “and i fear that i’m being unfair. because i’m not showing him all that i am, a flawed and whole human being. and if our love is as strong as we claim it is, i’m not giving us the opportunity to take on what i’m hiding so that we can work through it together.” there was a chain of secrets now; there was no way for her to isolate one link. what she hid was strengthened by the manner in which the unseen parts of her intertwined. she would not become undone. 220321 ... kerry many people seem to feel like secrets are a negative thing. if i ask anyone their thoughts about keeping secrets then they might want to know what mine are, or assume i’ve got something ugly to hide. maybe the fear of secrecy has more to do with the reason behind the secret, whether it’s a worry stone that you keep in your pocket or something rotting away in the dark. but without a secret, something no one else in the world knows about you and that belongs exclusively to you, couldn’t you be just anyone? i think there’s such a thing as too much honesty. sometimes honesty is painful and unnecessary, and the truth should remain a secret. but what is the difference between a secret and what simply remains unsaid? 220523 ... tender_square did he say that secrets and sobriety didn’t go together? had she repeat this advice from one of the characters on “mom”? or was it from what little she knew about aa literature? regardless, she wasn’t one step closer to risking her years of abstinence. she swished and spit mouthwash she could swallow each morning if she wanted to. “there is so much secrecy in his own family; about the money and about the fact that they don’t ask about his work,” her therapist said. “it’s as though you’ve been conditioned to their way of handling things.” she drew a square with her hands to indicate the parameters. “it’s funny you say that,” she said. “because i had a similar thought about that recently. i must’ve learned this from somewhere; being this secretive doesn’t feel like me.” 220526 what's it to you? who go blather from