But because my honest, humble and yes, sometimes misguided efforts toward strength in the face of normality of norm and toward example, where example has the exchange rate of a penny, copper and thrown –

It must be explained – I do not state cryptically, imply subtly or create analogies to make the names and places different to protect the identity of the characters on the screen.

This is an open letter, an ongoing discourse to those who would listen, free of judgment – of thoughts, hopes… I only wish for no one, everyone, dragon and all else: take what you will from it, see what you must in it, yet refrain from wearing the mask of the intended … the source::

Too many words, mind unsettled, too much clutter, but some of it is NOT! Don't get excited exclamation point, rest, go to sleep, don't fear your eloquence, for projection and pomposity cannot penetrate.

It's not a waste in this special place, it's not a show or a game and I don't get stage fright in front of myself…

Hmmm… except when I think I'm alone to sing because I'm shy, or dance to be sexy like no one cares, or play.

Then flushed, try to keep the heart still…

A fleeting glimpse of something I cannot trace: a shadow, footstep, forgotten wrappers, indelible proof of intrusion, accidental yet beneficial.

Someone has heard me through the walls, seen me through the window, laughing – at my confidence?

Perhaps keeping record that I'm aware I've been discovered, caught, ashamed.

I know I shouldn't care, I was being me, alone in a moment of relaxation, free from interpretation. I don't ask for explication OR understanding. But it's hard to get a big enough place at an affordable cost. How much is it anyhow?

Since singing in the shower is now akin to embarrassment, I don't sing in the shower anymore; it's not the same anyway.

NO – a better reaction at the peeped point of discovery:

Recover with grace, show face, coyly curl corners of the mouth and DANCE like I knew I was.

Pretend not to see, letting you know I do, suggesting that which cannot be acknowledged and that which will be my fuel. You got too eager and gave yourself up, now who cannot look away? Well, even if you can, you won't forget, despite the effort by force… of fear, anger, jealousy,, false arrogance. The imprint has been made and I bet it wasn't all that bad of a performance.

So you say, display is nothing to be proud of, but I say, that which drew you in, before discovery and during intrigue, was real and beautiful.

Beautiful may be hard to admit, but only at this delicate moment, and regarding the relativity of the word, I'm not speaking superficially, except to know I am no longer in search of beauty, and vanity is foolishness.

To be well is an art form, which I no longer diminish in the manner of lowering my self-esteem.

The point being: You may or may not forget, we both have our own impression of this little non-event, take or don't pay any mind to what you perceive.

I will, in the end, have the last moment after you're gone.

Wednesday, December 20, 2006