Saturday, November 08, 2008


What is the nature of the stories that you tell about yourself? The purpose they serve those who listen to them is not at all obvious, while themselves serving as the building blocks of who we think we are. Thus, the belief is the being, as is the reiteration. An old man once told me about the time he was shocked to be told by a doctor that he was dying and that there was no cure, and at that point he began to profoundly wonder what it meant to be a person who was dying as opposed to one that was living. And the further he entered the domain of that inquiry, not to seek answers but to just look around, the more he lived. As indeed would you and I.


Miss Kerry said...

my stories are the building blocks of performance.
what i may be, is anyones guess ( and chance )

Miss Kerry said...

Funny, now that I have a degree of being able to keep to myself, and keep quiet ( as opposed to the entertaining slightly crazed, but well enjoyed teller of wild tales of my unbridled life- I wonder now.
If I hadn't deliberately told them ( its compulsive,but not without art in telling what just comes out, like a tap )- who WAS?

Its rather like I have a "evil" twin. I find out what she did, later on.( Less now, thank god as now there is YouTube.)

Miss Kerry said...

Having medication for neural reasons, like glasses- makes ones life a re-iteration of this concept.

As fucked as the world may be, it is truly amazing.Im very lucky in this. the silver cloud to a otherwise dismal loss of 20 years of functioning as normal productive member of society ( or as therapist said. I accept that statement, ONLY from her, knowing it means far well more than the banality it seems!)