A man does what he must - in spite of personal consequences, in spite of obstacles and dangers and pressures - and that is the basis of all human morality.

~John F. Kennedy

a woman too, no doubt...

this entry is going to be about some reflections and reactions to recent and past web wanderings... one of the latest web writers and one of the first web writers I've stumbled across appear in the ramblings below... each turns me on in one way or another (and maybe in many) as I find myself thinking aloud...

I want to curl up with you and tell you about the passion I feel in my dreams, a passion you do not necessarily inspire, or perhaps you do, but you may understand and your understanding is the comfort I seek almost as much as the passion... and who understands that?

I welcome you, dear readers, to walk with me now through semi-random observations, reservations, postulations, and perhaps even a few fantasies...

according to Ajayi Harris, Stephanie Klein�s Blog, Greek Tragedy, is an amazing blog filled with insights on dating, being fat, 100 things about her parents, and bed wetting... according to The New York Times (which is proported to print all the news that's fit to print and you may have to register to read online), the blog is about the trysts, triumphs and heartaches of a young New York City woman... ...a 29-year-old art director with freckles and long red curls like Botticelli's Venus" (real life Sex In The City, perhaps?)... Technorati puts her "in the top 1% of all bloggers" (did you know there were 13 million blogs?)... whether it is a sign of increasing human enlightenment, the personalization of our planet, or the decline and fall of western civilization is for historians to determine, I'll just sit back and watch the wheels...

meanwhile, I loved the fact that she had a soundtrack in her blog... that redeems any haunty toity publicity contamination that might have influeced my reading of her site... and as if there wasn't enough syncronicity in the world, I just took out several of those CDs from the library in the past week... eerie, huh?...

of course fame and fortune as a blogger is a bit easier if you can admit to adolescent bedwetting, have a pet name for diarrhea, can claim to have dinner with celebrities (and be hit on by Mr. Big of Sex in The City, no less), love music, and put pics like this up after "6. I don�t like vibrators, but I love dirty talk in bed"....

all in all I am reminded why I miss NYC (and why I left)...

all that from following links on one of my favorite of favorites, who shall now be immortalized in the obscurity (if ever my online babblings get written up in the NY Times or find some other route to fame, I'll take back the crack about obscurity, ok?) of this life in black and white diary for all to see... ready?...

and when I revisit myself (who?), there is no wonder why I've always loved her (remember?)... even if most of her favorites are lost diaries, or locked, or haven't been updated since 2004 or before, you don't agree with every wise thing she says, she's brilliant and the world is much better off for having her in it...

ah, love is sweet... see candora for the mushy details...

in a typical and possibly vain attempt to segue into the lighter side of my perculiar character, somebody told me closet optimist looks like me... but he only has half a face, so people can tell us apart...

I feel like I might have shared some of the following before, and yet, a cursory glance through recent entries suggests that thought may be all in my mind (or points to how cursory my cursory glances can be)... in any case, I shall continue rambling on about my web wanderings now since I still do not have time to regularly update my browsing diary (a just as you apparently do not have time to update yours, aye?)...

so without further ado I go on with this inadvertent exposure of my blood and guts (or is that heart and soul) and other personal idiosyncrasies (what secrets?) by sharing some personal irreverence about some wonderful web-writers I love and imagine I know much better than I probably do...

for continued excellence in edumacation with all the fun of shock and awe, I give you smoog... well, I don't actually give you smoog, because I don't exactly have smoog to actually give smoog, but if I say smoog a few more times in this paragraph maybe smoog will notice and find it amusing or something... for to earn the respect of smoog would be an honor and privilege... so there...

some of you already know that I have a discordia in me and the poetry proves you don't have to be a women to feel like a woman, for without poetry (and music), I'd be so lost in the depths of don't-know-where, I'd have died before I was born... but depression is an grave I visit with flowers, dead flowers, mind you, and weeds, definitely weeds, but not a place I reside or remain for long... still, the expression of depression is not just the way in, it is the way out, in case you didn't know...

she knows...

I consider alwaysinhim an online friend... as much as anyone else I know online (or offline, for that matter), she challenges me with questions... she pushes me to challenge myself... she warms my heart with comments... she shows she cares in many ways... so my view of her diaries is quite biased because I appreciate her, but before she ever left a note or sent mail, I was drawn to her words because they were words I'd written myself in the past or in my head... I love her thoughtful pondering of life and love, of despair and hope, of the emotional roller coaster... her poetry.. she reminds me of how precariously thin the invisible wall is between forgiveness and acceptance (which, unfortunately, too easily turns into complacency in me these days, but this is not about me, is it?... ahem, clear throat and close parentheses), between despair (or is that apathy?) and depression, between hope and apathy... and how the moment lasts forever... and how perspectives always change... and how wisdom (and folly) is ageless... and how life is strange...

and one day I went here and got this... I'm not sure what it's for, but I got one thanks to nicim, who pulls me in all sorts of directions and now, at mostly random, I present you some random thoughts that I randomly found in my head while randomly visiting her... I like her cave... can the written word be heard?... and then, I read this and then, wrote this:

I have been asked to describe the power of belief. I answer immediately, believing in nothing turns it into everything.

yeah

and then, I found this quote in one of my favorite diaries and it is one of the foundations of the philosophy I call mine, so I include it here because this entry is all about using other people's words to praise them and explain me, sort of...

Conformity is the jailer of freedom and the enemy of growth.

~John F. Kennedy

if you've read me for years (some of us have been online together since the nineties, after all), you've heard me fawn over autumnal before... in all her incantations, through all the changes she's brought forth to the web, she is magical... I first found her in comments on a website of mystery and beauty (reflecting the creator well) that we both adored (that is silent now)... one of those strangers I will always miss...

reeling in the years, today I find dear autumnal writing again in her unique and hypnotizing style, taking me back to dreams and memories of years gone by and renewing my faith in hope and love through her honesty and strength and belief in herself... and now, she's found love... reason to rejoice... she is one of the most beautiful people I've read on the web and deserves the love and happiness I hope she is finding today...

I forget if it was I or she (I think she) who wrote the following, but I am nonetheless moved as much in reading now as the first time:

"It's hard to abandon your past when it lives uneasily inside you. And it's impossible to face your future when you're doing something which holds you down deep into murky waters."

~ autumnal

and at the window of my sixth floor walk-up on E 4th street wondering what happened to the dreams, the love, the life I once knew... I sat just ten blocks south of where you sat, it might have been the same night, twenty years later...

love is timeless... memories are timeless... life is timeless when lived in the moment, whether those moments are literary or literal... in closing this entry, my wish for you is that you may share timeless moments with someone who understands you, appreciates you, loves you, and trusts you today...

. o O ( NOTES ARE THE NEW HAPPY PILL ) O o .
(just let me know you were here)