..::sparkle and fade::..

..::16.10.07::..
there are literally thousands of drawings of the human heart. none of them look like the one i just put onto paper.

it's funny how writing things in the form of a letter make them different from writing them here...but often i write them and never send them. too lazy. too scared. an hour ago i started with a clean sheet of notebook paper. 60 minutes later. 5 pages. countless tears and i think i've said what i needed to say. wanted to say to my father for the last ten years. i numbered out each part. number three was my favorite. the midpoint. it was "relax." that i wasn't trying to start anything. just trying to explain. be open. fix what i thought was broken. but the scariest thought i have right now is that he could possibly read this. i could send it. and he could read it and think there was never anything wrong. fear is a scary thing. we start to get closer and this could tear us apart. but after four parents of close ones down in the past year...i think i have to take that chance or feel regret forever.

to end excerpts from mark haddon's a spot of bother
--"ladies and gentlemn, this job is rather like being asked to have sex with the queen. it's an honor, obviously, but not a task one looks forward to with relish."
--"jamie needed someone who made him uncomfortable. because getting too comfortable was the thin end of a wedge whose thick end involved him turning into his father."
--"he looked out of the window into the darkness. the view was breathtakingly beautiful, the traffic far below pulsing lik elava in the cracks of a great black stone."
--"if he wasn't careful he'd turn into one of those men who cared more about furniture than human beings. he'd end up living with someone else who cared more about furniture htan human beings and they'd lead a life which looked perfectly normal from the outside but was, in truth, a kind of living death that left your heart looking like a raisin."
--"he liked most stroppy women."
--"that was the problem wasn't it. you left home. but you never did become an adult. not really. you just fucked up in different and more complicated ways."
--"there were two parts to being a better person. one part was thinking about other people. the other part was not giving a toss about what other people thought."
--"your dad scarpered."
--"to his left mum and alan were talking about hellebores and ornamental brassicas."