Reading (again) the lines.

I've been going through old journals and reminding myself that people behave in patterns. Once you know someone, if you've been paying attention, there are rarely true surprises.

Eventually, you just stop fighting it.

I'm a pretty scattered person; I leave bits of personality on the floor, in the park, out the window, like other people leave skin flakes. I can't seem to want to put all of my selves in one book, open for everyone to read. Or perhaps I feel that it's an impossibility, and I keep this many journals because I can't even begin to think that I can explain everything in one way, in one place, in one word. But it's a puzzle, more than anything else, and there's always a larger picture that I'm trying to illustrate.

This is a pattern starter. I'm going to renew my faith in living in a world I love, and remind myself that it's perfectly acceptable to be yourself and really, really not worry about what everyone else expects of you.

So, here we go -- on with the show.
-----------
a girl alone and unafraid
she holds her head and laughs
freely, understanding now that she will
never belong to another set of memes.

...
Hee. This show is tiny and unconvincing. But I'm working on it.
-under construction-

remember this name:

Plotzker Embelton.

Don't ask.