indirect Soma I can't quite bring myself to reply. I write a response, then scrap the whole thing. Maybe it feels too personal. Perhaps it's fear of losing the magic of... anonymity, or of distance? I'm not certain. I'm smiling anyways. Magic - that's definitely it. Lately, I like remembering how slow blather is. A slice of something slipping out of grasp. I think that's part of the magic. I feel as if it is separation between the sacred and profane. My inbox piles with reminders of bills, and marketing from which I cannot unsubscribe, the small number climbing higher and higher. Don't get me wrong, this is no complaint of your correspondence, but rather... the best way I know how to appreciate it. Since well, you will only ever know my smile or furrowed brow — my gratitude, exultation, and serenity, my grief, loss, rage, and fear — only ever through my through words. 230406 ... Soma I thought about actually replying this time, you know. Only well, I didn't want this blathe to be alone. Your messages catch me off guard. It's like noticing someone's slipped a letter under my door, instead of it coming through the parcel. It gives me pause. I like little moments like that. I try so hard to capture those little spaces that are snapshots of life, but lately it just feels like life is a blur of big moments. A birthday, a career change, a plane flight, a fight. Maybe life has always been a blur to me though. I'm realizing more and more that my memories are particularly prone to fading away, and I'm left empty-handed about who I was versus who I am. Those big moments are amplified by the hum and chirp of crickets and katydid as they charge summer up to her full power each eve. There's an energy and vibrancy in the air that's hard to ignore, slicing through the blur of my medicated haze. I drink up these momentary reminders of life with quiet thoughtful sips. As much as I love this time of year, this year I only feel apathy. I could go into how and why, but why bother? Another doctor, another dosage, and another attempt to patch my broken head is all it boils down to at the end. I am not broken, and yet I am. I am not only my past, yet it made me who I am. I am summer, dancing on a breeze, but only able to be fully appreciated when I brush away the cold of winter. Emotion, passion, light, these all must fade away. I struggle against it, but what feeble a fight. Change comes for us all, and I can only hold in my heart that as the old things fall, new things arise. Oh, and speaking of birthdays, mine is in August. I'd ask yours, but truthfully I forget all the time when people are born. Just another piece of sand-time, slipping through my hands. I'll celebrate you now instead. I hope you too are well, and that you're enjoying the beauty of June in your own way. I'll raise a glass to you, and your birthday. We lived. We're living. We're here. And I'm ever so pleased that you're alive. 230616 ... Soma I’ve been the mess. I might be the mess right now, too. But some part of me has to admit — what a beautiful_mess it’s been. I am the storm, and I am the calm. I am the secret space, and I am the open truth. The power of both-and: that beautiful paradox We do not need to be any one thing You_are_meaningless, and so am I! The lack of meaning is nourishing It is what connects us and binds us And allows us to make meaning as we see fit The community we’re part of The relationships we build The simple enjoyment of nature and the world around us All part of a meaningless cosmic entity Sharing the dream of life That’s us. So, strange friend, remember — time would never give us commonality like shared words. I was born on a cusp, so perhaps that's why I find beauty in the both-and. I hope it too can bring you peace. 230626 ... Soma I get frustrated that in winter I run out of things to say. Or I have something to say, but it's the wrong time of day and there's a 403 error. I run into that one a lot. Anyhow. I think the feeling is fulfillment. I can't catch onto motivation like that much anymore. Something went amiss in my synapses, or was never setup right in the first time. But people have always motivated me. I miss having a pen pal. This reminds me of that so often, and I'm grateful. 231130 ... Soma I'm not really upset at myself. I'm just tired of getting these really weird typos on blather. You don't need to apologize. 231210 ... Soma you know, like "that's" becoming "thatTs" and shit. 231210 ... Soma it's not even me, and I've always had issues when things are outside my control. I think IЦd be less upset if it was just me all the time. So when it is me, after all those times... just drives me a little bonkers. just more lessons_in_acceptance, I guess. 231210 ... Soma damn I'm really bad about checking my mail this month. Forgive me for leaving your words in the cold clutter of unread correspondence. 231216 what's it to you? who go blather from