wanting_silence cr0wl feeling the first drops of snow on his bare arms, he closes his eyes slowly, like a door closing. winter is ending. he knows it like the birds who reappear one by one. they approach the cat food bowl on the porch, leaving their tracks in the fine white powder as if to signify their presence in a language of their translated songs. 100303 ... cr0wl he pretends in that elusive way of wanting silence that he is proficient in the language of these particular birds and that the story they have etched into the snow on the wooden floorboards of the farmhouse porch is his very own story, existing somewhere between a question and an answer. he bent down to gain a closer work for the script was beginning to pucker in the approaching sun's whispered spring warmth. he proceeded to read out loud, ethereal ribbons of steam escaping from his lips. "once upon a mysterious time, there was a single thought. it existed alone for there was nothing but it in its empty loneliness. and when it could no longer endure the pain of its inabilities to connect, it became a world, creating for itself one and then another where all it knew could be contained and shared. and then like viable seeds scattered with joyous abandon to the fertile, waiting earth, thoughts grew and established, taking on personal identity, forming substance, shape, color, six senses, five levels, a myriad of emotions, and multiplicited images of beauty. but above all the elements they possessed, it was love which became the prize. for by giving it away they found it was returned in far greater measure. they were even able to reproduce, not replicas of themselves, but combinations, mixtures, blends, and collaborations. each one contained individual and intrinsic parts of their own constitution and were motivated and influenced to represent who they were and exchange it for who they could be. and this becomes the perpetual question: who am i? the answer is, i am you. you are me. we are all of us together." 100305 ... unhinged the noise downstairs became her alarm clock. the shrine sat empty, dark. she used the noise as an excuse. 'i can't sit with that noise.' the noise dried up. the real excuse for her lack of practice dried up. eventually, the tears fell without pain. eventually, forgiveness was achieveable. she found her way. eventually, she realized the noise was the point. sitting in a cave will only get you so far. being alone can only get you so far. i am a social animal with asocial tendencies. but at the heart of it, we need someone to share our lives with. all the years i spent alone dragged so slowly. the past three months have been an eyeblink. i am willing to confront things i was not ready to see before. i have grown. immeasurably. you made me this way. and you point to the best parts of who i used to be that got lost in the silence. the parts i numbed myself out from. the parts that were missing when i looked in the mirror and didn't recognize who i saw. the important parts that i lost. you brought them back. you have brought my life back to me. the taken parts. the parts i didn't even realize i was letting go. innocence encompasses more than i realized. you remind me of the innocent times of my youth. the parts i woke up to, when i woke up to my brother crying in my lap. i remember the silence. it is not somewhere i want to go again. 100305 what's it to you? who go blather from