Yes. That's correct. I won't tell you what I was going to say. You can guess, and would probably be correct. I am all those things. Probably not much more, I guess.
An interesting turn of events this week: I will not divulge them. I can however speak in strange metaphors. Enjoy!
The Ghost of Christmas Past visited me in the recent past (haha). He brought with him a blueberry muffin and the scent of chai tea. Lovely smells, just lovely. And with that he tied my hands and taped my mouth shut, but allowed my eyes to see what I could have in an alternate time and place. Bewildering combination of grief and comfort. So as I sat dazed, smiling, he took my hand and led me spiraling down the rabbit's hole--where the images are dangerously sublime. The music is old and new at the same time. I am at the precipice, looking in all directions. I've been here before. The Ghost is annoyed with me. I am unable to finish my sentences: I am ______, I feel _______, I want _________. But I can't say I don't know. Somehow the music makes sense, but I don't. I'm sure I can, but I don't know how. Fabulous. Just fabulous. Thanks a lot Ghost, you sure revealed a whole of a lot. I really hope the the Ghosts of Christmas Present and Future will show up shortly and sort this all out.
And you thought Dickinson was cryptic! Ha!
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