White Light

You are a stone’s throw
from the cliff edge
as the danger of the dusk
envelops you whole.

So long traversing
the boundaries
of the sun’s vehement forces,

fall to the thoughts
of what darkness has known,
that which is missed,
in the nightmares,
within and without
the mind’s prison
of wanting
a sanctuary.

You will discover
it can all be white light.

I am

I am a girl, goddammit.
I am sweet and anxious,
frivolous, giggling,
dancing, serene and vivacious.
I can gossip with the best of them,
and wear the very highest,
but do not care what I look like,
I’m completely oblivious,
and selfless.
All I care for is you.
Don’t question any of this.
I know.
I have a women’s intuition,
and empathy abound.
Tell me all your problems.
I will listen.
I’m a girl, goddammit.

This isn’t actually what I think women are or should be… expressing my thoughts on the craziness of some of the expectations of what they should be.

Quote #73

“But yet, sometimes when I have done wrong, it has been because I have feelings that you would be the better for if you had them. If you were in fault ever – if you had done anything very wrong, I should be sorry for the pain it brought you – I should not want punishment to be heaped on you. But you have always enjoyed punishing me – you have always been hard and cruel to me.”
– George Eliot, Mill on the Floss

Rain and Reasons – A Dialogue

“How could you think the rain would fall knowingly? It does what it does. It’s a natural process. There’s no spite involved. Stop criticising.”

“You say this of me, but you don’t understand. I want to know how things happen, that’s all. But I know I’ve picked up these critical patterns. It seems to be taught as the way to be strong. I must be judging, always thinking of what’s wrong and right, what should and shouldn’t be. But I wasn’t naturally like this, whatever that means… It came about as an attempt to merge into my surroundings.”

“This self-absorption… we were talking about the rain. Why do you think it would want to harm us? How could you think so badly of it?”

“How could I know what’s in the mind of the rain? It was just a suggestion, or a thought.”

“What’s the difference?”

“I suppose a suggestion could be about you, trying to make you think differently perhaps, while a thought could simply be me expressing my mind with no motive at all of it influencing you. But what I said wasn’t a judgement on the rain.”

“Okay. I see. I just feel one’s interpretations of others’ actions could make all the difference. You know, the world is in ruins. Do you think harm would come about nearly as often if we thought each other’s motives benevolent, or at least as not cruel?”

“I want to be like the rain, if it doesn’t fall knowingly. These endless reactions, all with some kind of choice and of blame, they’re exhausting. I don’t want to think.”

“But is thinking not necessary? We must understand.”

“Does the rain understand?

“Does the rain try to change things? The rain, it just is.”

“Maybe that is the answer.”

“Perhaps a part of the answer.”



A try at writing a dialogue with what came into my head. Nice to do.