Monday, February 13, 2006

house of words

It's sort of like moving into the beach house for a while. The crockery doesn't match, the furniture is faded and holey, the stove doesn't work and there is a dusty, stale smell that requires an airing to dissipate.

But you make do with what you can. You tell yourself the crockery is eclectic and bohemian, the furniture is well loved..not utter shit, and the house can air while you walk to the shops for your fish and chip dinner.

But, it doesn't quite feel like home, does it? Home is where the walls whisper your secrets back to you and this place doesn't know your well enough to do that yet. Can you adjust, you wonder?

I have posted them flippantly, effortlessly, angrily and spitefully. I have been amused by them, challenged, heartbroken and dismissed them as trite. I have loved, learned, laughed, enjoyed, dreamed, decided and truly lived through them. I have had my best and worst days with those flippant little inconsequential written words of mine.

So what happens when you built a house of words and it all falls down taking you with it?