Monday, December 26, 2016

All I Ask


The bubbling words just won't shut up. They are pushing me forward, not so much bullies as friends who care enough not to let me slide into oblivion without having at least tried to add my voice to the mix. I just want to step up to the mic and say my piece, even though doing so is the most terrifying thing I can imagine. Both terrifying and passionately necessary. This is not just an ego thing. It's a human thing. The words have to be about being human, about what I want people to remember about the particular configuration of traits, of genetic lottery and accident, that I was here, that I took my shot at making beauty, that I surrendered and failed, that I was unique, that I was just like you.

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