Ok, I'm back, it is the middle of the night now. Can't sleep, won't sleep, don't want to, it's the same with me.
I had been thinking in bed. Brilliant stuff, enjoying it rather than fighting it. Reflexivity, a point of view of subjectivity in the context of the objective. The view of the world with self as part. This blog that is written about itself. As I mentioned I would move on and edit later, I can't tell which version you will read. Maybe it will be revised a hundred times, maybe never. That's the interesting thing about a blog/book. It could never finish. It is always finished. There is no better way for a writers pure enjoyment to write.
But you're different. You dive in, you don't need to let go, and don't bruise easily. You're fearless and free. And you want to hang around me a bit. I thought I was wild. Most people are just trying to hard. You live because that's the way you are. I won't disappoint you. You are not the kind of person who dwells. You're the girl I was talking to outside the bar where we were smoking cigarettes. Get out my dreams, get into my car. I've been known in other places to be a free man. I don't think you care, maybe you can see right through me. Maybe I'm making it all up. You gave me some joy anyway, who knows what day by day will bring.
In other places, where I had no immediate history, I had a far more expansive past. Part of the English, Canadian, Indian and Ugandan nations, a murid of the 49th Shia Ismaili Imam, musician, academic, mystic and capable of developing bonds with people at the places of the heart and of the human tradition where cultures arise. Travelling added these miles of identity. Going and returning strengthens home. But there is times when leaving is the only thing to do.
"Stay if you want, don't be ashamed, leaving is easy, losin's the same." - Kris Kristofferson
