Thank you.

-VERY EDITED VERSION (BECAUSE THE ORIGINAL WAS JUST THAT EMBARRASSING)-

This post is dedicated to a girl called Tashia for being amazing and helping me see things clearly again.

See, stuff's been happening over the past year. Good stuff and bad stuff, and although a lot of bad stuff has happened about 50% of it can be linked back to this one thing which has made my life a misery and is part of the reason I left Blogland for so long. Because it's hard to be me when I don't know who I am anymore, and this one thing kind of destroyed my identity.

But now, partially thanks to Tashia, it's over. And words cannot possibly describe how relieved that makes me. (Even Tashia doesn't know the full story, actually.)

But I get to be me again, and it's over and that's just the best and most indescribable feeling in the whole world. Which, apparently, made me into a raving lunatic. So sorry about that.

Scheherazade

Tell me about the dream where we pull the bodies out of the lake
and dress them in warm clothes again.
How it was late, and no one could sleep, the horses running
until they forget that they are horses.
It’s not like a tree where the roots have to end somewhere,
it’s more like a song on a policeman’s radio,
how we rolled up the carpet so we could dance, and the days
were bright red, and every time we kissed there was another apple
to slice into pieces.
Look at the light through the windowpane. That means it’s noon, that means
we’re inconsolable.
Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us.
These, our bodies, possessed by light.
Tell me we’ll never get used to it.

Richard Siken