fish thoughts

scattered musing from a tiny fish underwater


I'm falling in love with this font, trebuchet you are called. I noticed that everyone was using you so I tried to stay away. But now maybe we can start hanging out together. I like the way you carry my words, you make my thoughts appear cooler. I haven't really written anything in a long time, I've been too busy drowning in the sooty pond of real life that it feels like I have abandoned my blog.

I don't really have anything special I want to say, but it feels good to write. I like the rhythm of my fingers punching into the keyboards. I like the silence that comes whe you're alone with your thoughts, every noise that you hear in the background just sorta disappears. This is my alone time. The irony of it is that this place where I'm depositing these thoughts, deposting my impressions of life, essentially depositing myself is not at all private. I am not alone here, although not many people read my blog, if any at all, I think I get a few ghost hits.

I am thinking of that poem by Emily Dickenson, who I always mistake for Charles Dickens, because their last names sound alike. I've never really been a fan of Emily, ( it feels strange to address someone you hardly know by their first name, it feels like your tresspassing upon their personal space.) To me her poems have always felt contrived, restricted; they conjure up the image in my head of poems that are tucked neatly inside a corset and cannot breath. Reading her poetry feels arduous, like climbing a mountain; but sometimes, often times..the sweetest things in life are those things that you've had to fight, claw, punch, struggle, almost die for.

There is this one poem of hers that goes: "This is my letter to the world that never wrote back... " This is the one poem of hers that I'm tempted to finish, (kinda like writing through howl, which I probably would never attempt to do, but never say never). I'm sure we all have our very own versions of our letters to the world that never wrote back. I would love to see what yours would look like :)

But who would you address it to? It would probably just end up in a dead letter station. I don't know which one depresses me more; feeling the necessity to write a letter to the world that never wrote back, or sending a letter with no clear destination that it ends up stranded in a dead letter station.... at this point it's a toss up that I think I'm gonna choose not to decide on this one. I think it would be best if I leave my letter unfinished. yes, that's it.