And here the double-edged sword, with its previously unfounded name, soars into focus over mein eyes and rears both its points with surging precision, whereupon it mouths an I-told-you-so and glints carefully out of narrative attention. It represents attention wide and expectations great, and it refers directly to certain practitioners of the footnote variety, whose job it is, with the understanding that the traffic flows in both directions with equal ferocity, to occasionally make their presence felt, so as no one thinks the harbour of sometime effort is not abandoned and churned regularly out of indulgent necessity. Thus with awaiting feedback do I now approach each piece, and with public dread and delight do I open the increased blue, perhaps purple, number near the gray, unremarkable signature. But always was not so.
Even after attracting or forcing anybodies into my womb, I was still beset by mere carefreeness, but a carefreeness that was partially limited by my own standards of practice. It was only as the words grew to be more articulate and constructive that my awareness and my pen were sharpened and shaped accordingly. The feeling that comes with this is not, in all honesty, a pleasant one. Indeed some might call the sinking sensation rotten, but it is, nonetheless, vital and important in the shaping of all things writ. Without it, one muses, this one wall would certainly crumble to self with only the fanciful hope of Professor Unknown stumbling, quite by accident, to a mess, which, in his hands, becomes a masterpiece, keeping it up.
And though it tears right through me like a ball and chain, I am grateful to the extreme for the honesty presented and the unflinchingness from which it is presented. And though I am being pierced from both ends, I feel that I, as a non-representative of personkind, am most certainly the better for it. The populous of my theatre, with bobbing heads and rampant chatter, are the be all and end all and the givers of worth and the givers of words, and for that, again (and echoing one of them particularly strongly with the whole gratitude angle), I thank.
Duck, Duck, Cockatiel
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The move is officially complete, though I'm still living with a few islands
of stuff—the main one located in what agents like to call the "meals area".
Rea...
7 years ago
2 comments:
As fluent as can be. I thought that this chef d'oeuvre of well crafted but non the less sincere metablogging should not be commented. But then, here i am, metacommenting...
Yes, let's pretend I never spoke. But we really should set up a professional modesty league. Anyway, thanks for the kind words, O Mister.
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