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It is about me:
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It's to Die For
I saw something on my walk this evening that really disturbed me. I wasn't even sure that my eyes weren't playing tricks on me. I saw it, walked past it, walked back and took a closer look. I wish I hadn't. I wish I had been able to convince myself to keep walking at a brisk pace and let my mind wander until the impression vanished. It was a cherry or similar fruit that grows on the blossoming trees along my street. The cherry was in the mouth of a turtle. A turtle whose body was missing. Obviously the littering of beer cans (cheap beer) along the street, a turtle head and neck and no body tell a story of downright cruelty. Who could do that? Why? I walked on. Every car that passed, I imagined held a miscreant turtle torturer. This car, carrying a passenger drinking from a can...will the can be hurled from the window at me? Why not? Why? Would I arrive home to find grafitti all over the house? Is this town hiding the likes of other torturers? The truth is, probably so. My solitary thoughts run wild while I ride that train from one thought to the next. I get to a stopping point and retrace my steps. The places in between are lost. I can't belive this blog is still out on the internets. I haven't posted here in three years, not that I haven't written posts in my head, but I just haven't transcribed them. In truth, I assumed this blog was still out there, but knew I just didn't have the heart to update it. Silent Shouts? WTF was I thinking? Groovin with Soccamom. Heh. There's nothing groovy here and I haven't been a soccermom for what? two? three years? I've tied my identity to mom-ness and rarely written about it. I've tied my identity to something I've outgrown but carried the moniker to email, twitter and who knows what else. Is it possible to be just me? Who am I or rather, what part of who I am do I want to reveal? Should I reinvent myself or just reveal the self I am or should I shed this blog like a snakeskin and move on? I don't know. |