minuit

I wanted to start this with.. "i would like to riddle us in.." but i don't think i shall do that.. there are a number of voices one can speak from you know.
Nevertheless here I am listening to a rendition of "I Like the Sunrise" by amel larrieux and i halfway don't know what to say, but i shall continue.. there are a number of things i could say.. that have been stalking the brain or at least i felt would be good to expound upon somethings
one being why i am really doing this. perhaps rather i should list what i would like to talk about in the hopes that i will sometimes somewhat soon get to them.
1. why i am really doing all of this. this includes what it means to me as a person this project, this parcel of a life path, this journey, this awakening, this storytelling of the storytellings that have been told and those that are yet coming into being through our dreams and our minds. we focus them i believe into existence. and what if we could think about the whole world currently and forever focusing ourselves into existence. every single second all of us makes a decision. the world is .. or the world that is or that will be.. like now.. and now again is perpetually being born and shifted. i was thinking about that on the freeway the other day.. i mean you look out over them and it looks like there are all these cars and trucks right and they're all driving speeding along like they know where they're going and that might be how it looks like day after day and you think that's what life is... cars moving and other people's cars moving and that's just what it is.. but its not .. i don't think
2. what i think will happen with myself this september
3. the feeling i have for stories.. do you think the world is a story.. stories that have been told.. stories that never will be told.. stories that have fallen back into.. like you know something else i was thinking about was i watching a movie and there were some roman soldiers or something.. no I was watching that night at the museum movie and there were some spartans and i realized they sounded british, but then i was thinking
ya know.. maybe there is no way to really know what spartans sounded like.. i mean their real accents.. there is no way to know that thing.. who can remember.. and that type of knowledge is in the backwash of our existences.. though its likely somewhere
4.i am also thinking today about the worlds that exist... and i came to a thought i had not had before and that was.. perhaps the world in my 'head' is an actual world.
you know how we often think it isn't.. like those are just pictures flashing.. or its not real.. you discount the validity...
today as i was sitting in my father's house i was thinking.. maybe it is real.. maybe the things i see about what i want to happen are real in as sense..
i mean take this.. i haven't yet been to all the places i said i'm going to yet but i feel as if i have because i've been thinking about it pretty much nonstop for some months. i actually feel as if i have.. like i may have already finished it. I was reading this book The Bloody Chamber by a British writer named Angela Carter. Exquisite absolutely exquisite language. rendered fairy tales and folktales.. but i was thinking about writing and imagination and the ability to render something and make it real from your thoughts. nowhere is this more real than writing. perhaps that is not completely true, ther are thousands of ways.. but you take a thought, a feeling, a working and make it real on paper or voice and translate the picture, that happening, that inclination to someone else's mind. and it's more than just words really.
its and aspect or a slant off of reality, a window into a place or a feeling or a time.
There is a learning indicative in this place.. something happens to the mind or the person.. especially if they are young.. i mean this learning process... its an awakening to a feeling.. the cool undergirth of an evergreen on a gray ... the ability to get real big or real small... something actually happens and i speak form personal experience not being sure if i can translate the feeling here.. but you become subtle and sensitive to the dart, the mote, the inflection, the flavor of the scent off of the water, the sun glancing down. This is the similar kind of feeling one can get within the inflections of a day, the temperaments of nature or the wild or the grass or something. I shall try to stop explaining... but you just become sensitive to the outside inside places of reality.
5.I think we have people magic, perhaps we have life magic. when you are a child.. when you are a child you verily wishto believe in magic.. i remember.. like i spoke to one of my good friends about this.. you watch tv maybe.. or you buy a toy .. and you want it to be magic.. or you are searching for it everywhere.. i mean a barbie can only move so much.. and that troll you got with the green hair and the green jewel in its belly you made wishes on cause they said it was a wishing troll.. or you look for the gold at the end of the rainbow or you sing to plants or you believe something magical will happen.. and who knows maybe it will or maybe it did, who can say.. but i believe as you get older you can either stop believing in magic
or you can begin you can begin you can begin to see it in everything else.. you can begin to see it inthe sunrise in the half moon in the person who smiles at you you never believed would, in the story someone maybe your grandmother tells you or the feeling that whispers and winds itself around inside you day and night.. you can begin to see magic in these things.. our ability to see and feel and insinuate ourselves into our own stories and into our own living. can i insinuate myself further into my life.. can i settle deeper... can i search out and in the world over and the world inside myself for the place and the person and the pebble that i must seek. can i throw that pebble into the ocean.. can i dive into the murky blue... will i like it there? will i live there? will i wash up? can i tell a story? can i be a variation.. can i be the root and the leaf.. can i lift up twining? all these things.. something like it.
if magic were real perhaps..it would not be magic.. it would be just be reality.. or what everything was.. babies perhaps are magic.. i mean honestly i used to worry the heck out of myself with where the frick did i come from or something. that is an honest question.. and when and until i know for certain perhaps no one and nothing can dare to tell me what reality is and who i am and where we are and from whence we came? no one can tell me. no one had better try to tell me what my name is and what intisar means and what street she'd better walk down. but thats not really the problem though. sometimes i don't know what street i want to walk down.. and sometimes i get afraid.. and sometimes i am not sure about making a decision.. and sometimes my own not knowingness stifles me and i get a little caught in the inflection of the making of a solitary day. not always though. here we are.
i forget what number i am on
6. ooh maybe i shall get back to babies? who are we? are we aliens?
i am pretty convinced of our power, though sometimes i best remember when i am writing nd essentially just talking to myself. i'm pretty much convinced. and a baby is born.. and a baby is born.. and that old man.. and babies.. i mean people.. not on some feed the children type thing.. not the dumbing down of babies just because they are cute and younger.. but really.. we are so powerful and i refuse to believe one person is more powerful than another.. and i take that ish back.. i take it back.. i take it back.. you hear me i take it back.. roll the carpet back.. jump back honey jump back.. i mean yeah
7. i am also convinced that when people talk about the future of our children and saving the children and educating the children and caring for children and loving the children they are essentially talking about themselves andthat is ok..they are wanting to make a world.. they want to be loved and cared for and educated and thought about.. children represent dreaming and belief and possibility and freshness and the ability to begin and make and craft and enlighten and sing and hold hands in a circle and look up at the sky and make ourselves and cry at things that are beautiful and hold hands again with friends you would be too scared to talk to now and small hands and new faces and jumping off diving boards and maybe laughing hopefully and seeing your future before you, because thats all there is.. you are perpetual
perpetually perpetually stepping into the next second that will be you.
when people talk about the children they are talking about the children because they love them yes but also because they are talking about themselves and the world for everyone they would like to allow to make
to be. they are the children. the old people are the children. and all the folks in between. don't get too hard on yourselves. are you still a baby? are you still tender? don't lose your freshness. you never do.
8. i think about my grandfather and i think about childhood and that inflective reflective place
that is the slantwise glancing off of the sun hitting the sides of your eyes and you cry a little in that soft padding place of the newest morning ever or maybe just every again
beginn-ing
9.i want to talk about riddling us in magic, in our stories and words and leaves, etc.. but that will be another day when i have the spin to spill all that out
10. am i done?
11. i don't know
12. i really believe i like you
13. i really believe my name is intisar.. though maybe it is not.. last year i decided to go nameless for a bit at least to myself.. i wondered what it would be like to be as raw as an animal without a name living.. what would that be like.. what would i figure out about myself.. if i allowed myself to be as namely base as a dog or any sort of animal doing its do, a being raw, would i ache and seek out the meat of a real life's living
14 is it.. unless i come back later tonight