Blogging is just therapy for me.
I went to a poetry reading at good old Coffee Cartel in Redondo Beach. I just sort of stumbled into the place, not knowing there was anything going on that night. But I caught glimpses into the souls of random strangers, people I wouldn't have looked twice at walking down the street. Their dreams, their images, little worlds crafted with witty words, totally transported me out of my daily ache. One woman talked about a girl in a cornfield, chained to fire, talked about the leaves that fluttered against her bare thighs, her hands raised, bound, to answer a question. She talked about the fire, the pull of it, the imprisonment of the woman to it, and the ending line was, "What was the question?" Of course, she said it much better, she's some published poet. But imagine walking into that. I was sitting in a cornfield, listening (for some reason) to "In Her Eyes" in the back of my head, seeing a dusky yellow-orange settle over the horizon in some field that exists in an imagined world. A younger girl, looking barely out of high school, energetically approached the mic, and she spoke with the kind of rhythm you could really snap your fingers to, something you could say, "I dig it" to. And when she read hers, I saw stars. I mean really, you could just picture the most abstract things in your head listening to these people. Unclenched fists, breathing in sunlight, stardust and moonshine, people fighting, people singing, people making love.
It's just another way for people to pour out what's inside of them, for them to yell out in the midst of conformity and franchises and the same, same, same of routine and monotony, "This is ME, this is a moment that will never happen again the same way EVER. This is who I AM, this is what I have to SAY." And I walked into each of their hearts, their heads for maybe a minute each, and I thought, what's in me to say? What can I tell the world, for better or ill?
We're all looking to connect with someone, new friend or old, stranger or lover. It's like butterflies sending out pheromones to find each other. But, in the case of humanity, I think if we spend a little more effort listening to the messages being sent out, we might find one we like, and find someone who likes what we have to say, too. It should be less about, someone find me, someone connect with me, and more about let me connect with you, whoever you are, lonely creature you are, and maybe we'll walk away seeing life a little more full, a little more worth the daily grind.
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