anonymous

[lastcatastrophe]

Tell me something you've always wanted to say to me, but bit your tongue against. Tell me something you haven't told anyone else. Ask me something you've always been curious about, but thought was too personal, or too strange, or too sad. Tell me what you think of me. Tell me what you think of you. Be sincere, be callous, be philosophical, be

Comments

[silent_sparks]

up until i turned 23, i had never seen a dead body. i sorta wondered if i ever would, it's such a strange thing. here we all are, walking around and barely taking notice of each other, but if any of us drop dead we are instantly swept away to a hospital for a double check and then disposed of quickly afterwards

[silent_sparks]

ps. i thought it was hilarious when you felt it necessary to disclaimer that i may not remember you considering how many classrooms we've shared. i never had a hard time approaching people and learning about them, but you were one of the few that i always wanted to talk to but never found the nerve or opportunity. i am glad you decided to leave me a comment.

[lastcatastrophe]

I guess it is really, but high school feels like it was decades ago and I do not consider myself to be a very "memorable" person... probably because until about senior year I walked around with my head down and never looked anyone in the eye. I was always incredibly shy, but most people never saw that and instead thought I was a bitch. And I'm glad I finally talked to you, too... it only took 13 years to work up the nerve! :p

[lastcatastrophe]

I can't even imagine what that experience must feel like. The only time I've come close to that was my junior year of college, when my friend (who was a hard partier and had been drinking for about 6 hours) started to say something to me when my back was turned and then went silent. I turned around to look at him and saw him fall backwards, unconscious.

He didn't wake up when I shook him. His chest wasn't moving, I put a mirror under his nose and he wasn't breathing... I put my fingers on his pulse and I couldn't feel his heartbeat. Finally someone shouted at him and he sort of jerked and started breathing again. My friend and I dragged him to the bathroom and she made him throw up, and he was okay after awhile... I can't believe he was okay. I really thought we were going to lose him.

I hope I'm the second kind of teacher. I want to inspire, I want them to love words as much as I do.

[anonymous]

sometimes i believe that you are scared of your strength. you have the ability to keep everyone fooled, tho' it's funny when you don't believe the things you say. we seem to find it safer to claim we've been taken out of the battle, that we're too damaged to hold the front line. we all know what we are doing, and no matter what complications we give to excuse, every choice is a choice.

i think you are beautiful. you've survived so much. you are powerful. what do we do after survival?

why do none of us know? it feels so much safer here.

[lastcatastrophe]

there's nothing in this i can deny. i want to say it makes me feel ashamed, but that's just as much a cop-out--it's so much easier to feel guilty and ashamed than to change.

[lastcatastrophe]

I added 'forgetting all about you' as an interest a little over five years ago, after a bitter, shrapnel-and-amputations end to a relationship. I have moved on since then--but I haven't forgotten.