frankly

i feel somehow like i'm just waking up. it's late, and i'm at a party that has been going on all night. i've almost missed it.

what the fuck have i been doing these past years?

well, i'm glad i've finally woken up, anyway. i feel like i can't do everything i want fast enough. i want EVERYTHING. everything.

have you looked at these photos? http://myredself.org/index.htm (under photos, there are many tiny buttons. each is beautifully worth a click).

have you read these writings? http://www.intensefragility.com

it's so fitting that as a teenager i loved the last lines of this poem (in brackets). i didn't know it had other verses, until tonight.

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look will easily unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully ,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility :whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands

E. E. Cummings