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November 5th, 1998

(bulletproof) @ 03:48 am

From: shorning@willamette.edu
Subject: (bulletproof) (fwd)
Date: November 5, 1998 3:48:32 AM PST
To: horsestorideon@hotmail.com

can you send this to all the kids?

---------- Forwarded message ----------
Date: Thu, 5 Nov 1998 03:45:04 -0800 (PST)
From: youcareiknowiforgotforawhile <shorning@willamette.edu>
To: "pocket [mostly aspirin]" <houseofthe2palms@hotmail.com>
Cc: Sheridan Horning <shorning@willamette.edu>
Subject: (bulletproof)

this started out as a specific message to a boy in the dry from a girl in
the wet, and then i remembered that we're supposed to do it in front of
each other.

we are supposed to exist in front of each other, about each other, in the
same environment as each other.
so we can see what we're about, so we don't have to be afraid or
misunderstanding of each other's settings.

dominic is between all of us, but when you take him out, or when he's
gone, we should be next to each other.
space exists like that.

i really think we should keep it between us all so we don't have to worry
about something not being said.
isn't it comforting, at least a little bit, to hear something from
someone you trust with ideas, something that you hadn't thought of?

isn't that part of the repose, that you can rest for the time it would
have taken you to think of that idea, because now you don't have to find
it, you can find something else; isn't that why you can sigh?

in response to trevis (and dominic),
it's not that the kids here are getting to me.
i've had a chambered glock pointed at me and all i could say was how dumb
it would be if he blew a hole through my stomach, because he would look
so dumb.
i am bulletproof.
i just get a little nervous sometimes, when i get these ideas, that i
haven't heard from anywhere else, and there's no one around to tell me if
i'm correct, or what i'm close to, or how far off i am, or how it just
doesn't make sense.
the closest i get for the most part, excepting a genabee, is either
someone asking me something specific because he assumes i'm there too
(grb), or someone telling me i'm going about it completely wrong, because
i'm focusing on form and style instead of content.
and i try to tell him that because of the change in style and form, the
content, subject can not stay flat, as a word, as a name, because it is
filling it on more than one plane, or level.
and then he says to me that my art, my expression, is merely the deluding
of what it is to be human, that i'm losing it.
and i say no, it's that i think that i can suggest more than one thing,
so they can have more than just one way to percieve like i do, so they
can have a stretch, a pull, between more than two things.

so, sometimes, i just get pushed out so far, and i can see the colors and
shades of what's around me, but i don't know what the fuck it is.
so it's good for me to hear sounds about it, and see words about it.
and know that there's a place that will keep me informed about it.

dominic, pocket, girl one, familiars in a dream, i'm addressing you.
all you kids, i'm addressing you.

dear life,
you are exactly right there. when one thing happens after another, i am
so glad that you still know how to do it.
and sometimes you make it so i want to yell about it, and yell about
it, cause you are such the kind that always does it, no matter what.
and please make it so i know how to do it exactly like it. and thank
you for the friends that remind me that i should be doing it, and
doing it in such a way that makes it beautiful. so other people
like to watch it, that they can feel it to, be reminded by our
faces.
sometimes you absolutely kill me, the way you do it so well.
remind me to play it exactly the way i should,
every little bit, like a good one.
amen


at least for this second it's like this
 
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