can you hear...

safe

when i was about nine i had a pretty bad nightmare. i got kicked out of swimming class for talking too much, so i went back to the changeroom... only there was a man there and he locked the door. he didn't touch me - the dream didn't get that far - but the terror was still overwhelming. and when i screamed it just bounced off the walls and no one in the swimming pool could hear me or help me.

eighteen years later, i still remember his slight but powerful silhouette, the sound this piece of metal made when he scraped it across the floor and then rammed it under the door, the way the blue tiles looked as my voice visibly and helplessly ricocheted.

and i remember that when i woke up, it was the middle of the night and i was so very upset. so scared. and you let me crawl into bed with you.

i love you so much.

disturbia

i came across a deeply upsetting image. there was a warning ahead of time but - let's be honest - that just made me curious. the thing is, this image is very knee-jerk disgusting. even though you can rationalize it away, it's still deeply disturbing. and it's stuck in my head. and no, i'm not linking it, 'cause i care about you too much.

countless others expressed dismay and anger about the posting, some vowing never to return to the site, but one reader observed that the website routinely and unapologetically raises issues that should upset us: abuse, addiction, self-destruction... why were many of us so adamant that *this* image be removed, but so indifferent about the other, much more immediate and urgent, concerns?

here's the thing: there is nothing noble about offending people for the sake of offending them. socrates wasn't a gadfly 'cause he got kicks out of it, though that may have been a pleasant side-effect. there is power in evoking sudden emotion because it can shock people out of complacency: i can be moved to intervene on behalf of battered women, or to talk more about the dangers of driving under the influence, or to seek out more ways to show love to those around me who hurt. but there is no "end" to this image. it's just disturbing. it's like sharing a nightmare with someone only to get it off your chest... except the listener inherits it. and that borders on abuse.

can't touch this

nothing insightful to read here! almost everything below is fairly obvious.

so, clearly, there are awful hugs and awful kisses and there are wonderful hugs and wonderful kisses. the difference between the yum and yuk isn't always straightforward, though... aside from cracking ribs and epileptic tongues - those are unambiguously bad signs.

earth-shattering proposition: the "who" matters infinitely more than the "what" because context really is key. and that goes for friendship as well as morethanfriendship.

i was reflecting on my affection history and expected it to be confusing, but the over-riding theme is a huge disconnect between mutual touchyness and mutual emotional engagement. (and that has cut both ways: sometimes way too much touching and sometimes surprisingly little.)

it's also appears that i think hugs end fights. that is, i think they're legitimate stand-ins for apologizing/extending forgiveness/promising never to criticize the way you do dishes again/what have you. oh, and i am really, really wrong about that.

but - k, don't laugh! - part of me really believes that words are easier to misinterpret or overanalyze. meanwhile, it's hard to parse a hug: it just means good things. yeah, i'm naive.

a more-than-a-friend-with-enormous-complications once predicted that i'd get married for the conversation.
a) this is a load of crap and always has been.
b) i posited a while ago that maybe the point of life is to notice the implicit false dichotomies all around us and intentionally reject them. i guess what i'm saying is... surely we don't have to settle for either words OR actions. we can have a healthy dose of each.

strumming

"rhapsody in blue" is lovely all the way through, and it seems to end just when it should. how do artists know when the painting or song or poem is finished, anyway? i'm really asking.

i listened to my favourite piece today... and thought, again, about how school should start in spring. and we should defend our theses in fall, with the harvest. and then we'd beat pathetic fallacy because the long hard hours of slaving away would be brightened by sunshine and winter would be warmed by breaks from school.

i have pedagogy and epistemology on my mind today. and i'm thinking about interconnectedness and holistic analysis.

i'm excited about mining archives and worried about paying for these research trips (even though they're local-ish).

i'm wondering if culture really does have intrinsic value or if we're just defensive.

i'm hoping they turn the heat on soon, too. i imagine that might be cozier.

i'm remembering that "lovers in a dangerous time" is still an incredible poem. and so is "hallelujah." and so is "stopping in the woods on a snowy evening."

and i have miles to go before i sleep.