public_address pony I would like to say that I am here with permission, not having stumbled uninvited, although unannounced, into this community in which I find myself fully engulfed and compelled to, tinged already with a wash of red in my dreams. Of course it's bloody. I shall not hold back. i.e. Hello, I'm Pony. I write autobiographical poetry in the form of prose. Lewis Carroll did a number on me. I had a dream last night that we were all real people and I haven't made you up in my head. 240223 ... releaseofwarmth (grimace-smile, half-shrug) the more I get to know people, both as individuals and within the framework of the human condition, the more alone/unrelatable/alienated I feel. but the writers remind me. they pull me back. tell me I'm not the only one. sorry to burst the 4th bubble but I'm 97% sure I'm not a figment of anyone's imagination. just stuck in the same trap as you, pacing the same floor. it is nice to have company. even more comforting to know I can come and go as I please. most comforting to know I can express myself freely without any concern. red takes the blood with the mud, it's all the same to red. pass the cheese board, would ya? before we go out for the next smoke break. Kipling hit me harder than Carroll did but they're cut from the same cloth I think. let me top off your drink. (clink) 240223 ... raze it's a gift to read the things you write (that goes for both of you). thank you for being here, and for confirming what i've long believed to be true: the pen really *is* mightier than the sword. and a fjord. and maybe even the fuselage of a well-made ford. though don't hold me to that last one ... i never did learn to drive. 240223 ... pony I've lost track of how many authors' voices have impressed upon me enough to form the amalgamated syntax that is my own - Kipling has been a fine companion at times for me as well, in a 785 page collected works that I've carried through 15 years and 6 moves - but I have this core childhood memory of my first meandering through the language maze of Alice's adventures, which was far departed from the junior mystery novels in which I first began to comprehend narrative structures. The lilting of words both meaningful and meaningless, and the loose rules surrounding descriptions of being and dreams, shifted me hard when I was 8, and I fell down the literary rabbit hole. Anyway, after decades of maintaining a fully imaginary audience, happy to have that 4th broken; releaseofwarmth, I like your style, the old_shit too. And raze, well, you know. 240223 ... warmthofrelease I like your style too pony. there's this discontent that permeates everything I've read of yours. maybe that's just the current chapter of your life but I now associate it with your voice. it gives some consequence to your words, like we're not just babbling about the weather but there are actual stakes involved. appreciated. and yeah raze, you do know. 240224 ... epitome of incomprehensibility I don't know if I've formally said hi! So, hello (this is me formally saying hi, she joke-explains). I can be e_o_i; I'm currently in my last term of a linguistics degree that served as a distraction from finishing a first novel, perhaps. And lastly here, I like what you wrote on "Plath" - she's one of my favourite poets I'd probably dislike in person. 240224 ... pony Oh, I like it here, I really think I do. Discontent isn't just the chapter, warmth, it's the name of the whole damned book, and if that's my associated voice, well now that I'm content with. 240224 what's it to you? who go blather from