My tongue is in my hand…


Posted on: February 27, 2008

I went to the Athenaeum show Saturday night. Within seconds of when they began to play, it went right towards the top of my list of favorite things I’ve done.

Their “Radiance” album was my constant writing companion for a long time. I can’t say that I wrote anything amazing during that time, but I was in a place that I have struggled so hard to make my way back to as a writer ( and maybe as a person as well).

Standing there that night, I was in that place again, nothing mattering except the way it felt to feel separated even in a shared experience. I guess that’s the best way to describe the place I was, want to be. Separate. Not isolated, not alone, not independent- separate. Because I don’t want to be isolated or alone (for the most part, on most days) and I know I am not independent, we are all intertwined, it is our design. But to be separate is to have a certain freedom, a certain liberty; breathing room.

I hated taking off my clothes for bed, looked in the mirror one last time just wanting to burn the image of what I looked like- back. Hoping to use it like a rope, a ladder rung, a stepping stone, evidence.


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