ex marks the spot
i was thinking, because that's what i do, how hypocritical it is for me to constantly browse thru my friends' blogs (or anxiously await their emails because i miss them so), when i haven't exactly been writing lately. I suck, that's just it. I can't blame others for not writing when my dry spell has been just as long.
Don't expect much of this post, only randomness. The last one was sort of depressing so i've avoided writing another, for fear it would end up running down the same path.
I've been reading my ex-brother's writings lately, and they're simply beautiful. there's a deep sadness, the same one you see when you watch him sulk around the house, but it's still beautiful. a sample, tortured by the memory of a former love now lost...
I started calling him my ex-brother as a joke, because "ex-brother-in-law" is too long and dull, and he always felt more like a little brother. When i introduced him with that moniker for the first time last week, he seemed to wince, and i knew i should probably stop. Jokes don't make it any easier.
I got my divorce papers notarized this afternoon. When i walked out of the notary's office downtown i saw a homeless couple sleeping on the lawn of City Hall in the shade of a large elm tree. They were the same couple i saw being harassed by a cop the night before when they were sitting idly on a bench about half a block away. The man told the cop they were just out celebrating their anniversary and stopped to reflect; they weren't loitering. The cop moved them along anyway. Life could be so much worse.
,
Don't expect much of this post, only randomness. The last one was sort of depressing so i've avoided writing another, for fear it would end up running down the same path.
I've been reading my ex-brother's writings lately, and they're simply beautiful. there's a deep sadness, the same one you see when you watch him sulk around the house, but it's still beautiful. a sample, tortured by the memory of a former love now lost...
she's beautiful and her dark hair falls onto her shoulders softly. the way a bird seems to land on a branch. i know i'm here in this place. this warm water. and i'm saying i don't care. let the world die in its place. i don't care. let the best of friends become modest enemies. i don't care. let all crimes and justice go unnoticed. i don't care. and her eyes speak to me a language, a language i'd long forgotten of or had never a clue to its existence and it was a language that haunted me and haunts me still. she kisses me in that moonlight and i know i'm home. i know that i've found my allegiance. my country. everything that i would fight and die for, need i ever have the chance. yet i say nothing. she grabs both of my hands and turns around so that i am holding her there in that place. our faces pointed to the sky. my nose on the nape of her neck and her hair smelled of lilac all heaven and warmth. her skin was pale. the night fell on.After reading his for awhile, and some other stuff from other emerging talent, i finally get the difference. I can write okay, but it's purely academic and descriptive, not creative. I don't paint pictures in your mind, or even try to. I get my point across, while they immerse you in their worlds. Sometimes i wish i could write like that, but i'll leave that to the people that are good at it, and continue on with what i know.
I started calling him my ex-brother as a joke, because "ex-brother-in-law" is too long and dull, and he always felt more like a little brother. When i introduced him with that moniker for the first time last week, he seemed to wince, and i knew i should probably stop. Jokes don't make it any easier.
I got my divorce papers notarized this afternoon. When i walked out of the notary's office downtown i saw a homeless couple sleeping on the lawn of City Hall in the shade of a large elm tree. They were the same couple i saw being harassed by a cop the night before when they were sitting idly on a bench about half a block away. The man told the cop they were just out celebrating their anniversary and stopped to reflect; they weren't loitering. The cop moved them along anyway. Life could be so much worse.
,
posted by joe @ 9:31 PM
1 comments
Your ex-brother's writing is beautiful. I'm curious, is this excerpt from his blog? I'm also thinking, "where were guys like that when I was young and single?" ;) *sigh*
Speaking as one of your friends who misses you, I'm happy to see you posting again. It gives me a way to still feel connected to you when life is so crazy busy that I can't seem to find the time to write a proper email (or even an improper one). I should take my blog down -- it's been so long since I've posted anything worthwhile, and I find that leaving it sitting there only nags at me. It's like you said, I realize that I'm just really not a good writer, and an even worse creative writer. But I sure do enjoy reading those who do it well (which includes yours, you are more talented than you give yourself credit for, IMO). :)