Anonymous meme

[sun_set_bravely]

I've watched this one going around with interest, and I'm finally posting it.

This message is addressed to everyone who is reading this post.

In the comments field, I want you to post anything that you want, and do it anonymously. Anything. Post a story, a secret, a confession, a fear, a love - anything. Be sure to post anonymously and honestly. Post twice if you'd like, and then put this in your LJ to see what your friends (and perhaps others who you don't even realize read your LJ) have to say.

Comments

[(Anonymous)]

I always think I can be identified by my writing, so I won't write anything too terribly secret here.... OK, maybe a little secret...

I fell in love with a boss. Actually, I applied for the job because I knew I'd fall in love with the boss. He's no longer my boss and I haven't seen him in three years or so, and, you know what? I'm still in love. I usually get over these types of crushes when I no longer see the object of my affection, but it's been three years and my heart still flutters when I think of him.

So that's my secret. Know who I am? (it's ok if you do -- it's not a big secret...)

[sun-set-bravely.livejournal.com]

Interestingly enough, I'm not sure who you are. I have a hunch, but I think I will keep it anonymous for now.

[(Anonymous)]

The Proper Holiday

Bare feet on wet sand, cold still,
defying the vociferous sun
as reddening skin can’t,
white lines form under straps
as trophies of prosperity
for those wealthy enough to fly
and those that aren’t,
tonight a meal and booze for
tomorrow the toilet will
brutally reclaim it all
to the music of racist chants,
“Bloody foreign food”
starts the mantra
“bloody wops”
or
“chinks”
or
“frogs”

There’ll be red-ear and tummy bugs from
the pool (can’t help swallowing the water)
and a fight in a bar with somebody
never before met or cared about
over nothing at all and everything.

Next year it will be fondly remembered
as they go through it all again.

a fable

[(Anonymous)]

there was a little fox, a lady fox with alert brown eyes, who lived in a woods in a peaceful land. she had grown up among a small family of kits with a kind-hearted mother fox and a father fox who too often made life loud and unpleasant. but on the whole, for a little vixen, she had had a good kithood.

as she reached the age where little foxes begin to mate, however, she had the bad luck to fall among wolves. several times these wolves, who were bigger than she by far and much stronger, would want her and take her and then leave her with her heart broken. she would grow to love them, but love was not their aim. so she was often sad.

at length, while feeling sad and broken, she met a good, steady older fox who offered to give her a home and take care of her. she was feeling lost in those days, so she accepted his offer. but after years of a humdrum life in his den, which gave her her own two kits, she ran across another wolf, who repeated the cycle she had experienced before. now she was left feeling that happiness would never really be for her.

she dreams while awake of strange strong bears whose forceful paws might wake her body from its slumberous state, or of fierce and fearsome lions whose roars would frighten while arousing her. and the years pass.

[(Anonymous)]

Haloed grasses,
gilt shadow-edged body of dune...
I could go on like this.
I love the language
of the day's ten thousand aspects,
the creases and flecks
in the map, these
brilliant gouaches.
But I'm not so sure it's true,
what I was taught, that through
the particular's the way
to the universal:
what I need to tell is
swell and curve, shift
and blur of boundary,
tremble and spilling over,
a heady purity distilled
from detail.

[(Anonymous)]

I heard verses stream screaming from the sky, so blind passionate, compassionate sublime, and I fell into a pounding ache, fell into a painful state (in which I felt my heart would break). I fell to the ground (the world is round), and I felt a sound go 'round and 'round inside my head (pressed to the ground and heavy like lead). The sound (of the world) (the world is round) beat loud against my brain like a bird in a cage raging, like a person insane flailing – like a pleasing pain I couldn't name.

And my heart broke with a heart-breaking snap: it snapped like a sapling snapped in half by a playful child who wants nothing more than to be wild for a while and prove himself a powerful master possessed of a stature larger than Nature. That is how my frail my frail my heart so frail felt inside this frail frightened shell that swells and swells with a frailful fear dredged from the depths of a Hell too near. I was set alight. My whole soul (no longer my own) was filled with flames fanned by fey idiot saints and pale sick assassins whose smiles unkind chill to the bone (like the wild child's smile at his pile of dead leaves and his pile of dead trees – piles of something that once HAD something: the promise of something more than a past).

[(Anonymous)]

I found quite novel the evening when a co-worker phoned me at midnight, saying "would you like to come play Trivial Pursuits"? She was quite intoxicated, so that acceptance or declination was never really the issue, so after I told her that I was flattered but must decline, we discussed the wonderful ambiguous suggestiveness in that phrase--"would you like to come over and play Trivial Pursuits?".