dudemanflab's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Four questions I had four questions, in my dream, and a group of ten friends to ask. They stood outside in a yard, and I went into an outbuilding, grabbed a dispatch radio mic, and asked the four questions I had to ask. Now they won't come to me, the questions, but I remember the air was thick after I said them. They were the kind of words that questioned the way a body or a mind was--forms against forms. They asked about forms offensive to bodies and words, like God. I knew no one outside was enjoying my words, but that I had to speak them. I wasn't enjoying them either, but I had to ask each question. When I walked outside I was expecting to see a small huddle of people, who, better or worse, would receive me. Instead, they were spread about the yard, breathing in sighs. No one was happy to talk, to see me. Sarah and Jonah gave me a shrug. Why do words and subtle arguments come between you and me? 8:25 a.m. - November 13, 2008 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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