Runnin' on only a few hours sleep here so don't go expecting anything coherent.
Reflecting on this week's events, I am intrigued by the world wide web. How an event in my own backyard could wind up on a stranger's blog and within days a bunch more strangers have been invited into the secret corners of my mind and life.
Every now and then I go back through the posts I've made here. I like to read them as if I was a new visitor, coming to this blog for the first time. And I wonder about the perceptions people have of me, who they think the tall penguin is. Even going through a year and a half of my own writing, I can't say I'm any closer to knowing who I am. Rather, I can't say that any of my writing comes close to saying who I am.
This is what has always frustrated me about language. It feels like a noose by which we inevitably hang ourselves. People point to our words to define us, put us into a box and then judge us. You do it. I do it. It's the human condition.
As much as I talk here, in my daily existence, I am often at a loss for words. There is so much going on in my head at any given moment, that to let you in on it, would be overwhelming for both of us. It's why I value moments of silence so very much. To be able to be in someone else's presence and just be still with them is one of the greatest gifts I can share with another human being.
If you no longer had words, what would you say?
tall (and incredibly exhausted) penguin