Hate to break it to y'all, but here's a bit of not-so-great to break up what's hopefully a wonderful holiday season:
As of now, there will be no new writer on Southern Ineloquence.
As much as I wanted to mix it up with someone fresh and interesting, I didn't get any applications that were anything close to what I was looking for.
Yep, I know - the disappointment is nearly crushing.
But before you let the elephant that's come to perch on your chest crush all the air out of your lungs (not to mention break your ribs, yeesh), here's some good news to restore your holiday cheer:
Because I have yet to receive an application with the potential to set off your warm fuzzies, I'm extending the deadline indefinitely.
That's right. If you think you've got the stuff, send it in. I'll be waiting, and so will all the other readers. Come be a part of something you really enjoy.
12/25/11
12/21/11
A Memory
I walk down the street with my head held high, gliding in high heels and perfect make up. I wear a serene half-smile on my face, making little nods and curtsies to passerby I may or may not know. A young man leaning against a wall cracks a joke in my direction, flicking the ash from the end of his cigarette.
"Where you goin' lookin' so pretty, girl?"
I turn and walk backwards for a moment, laughing as I reply, arms stretched wide in an invitation to the world: "Why, anywhere and everywhere I can go, good sir!"
He grins back at me and nods. "You alright, girl, you alright."
I continue along my way, feeling expansive and connected to everyone I pass, touching lives with my high-heeled glide and half-smile.
But I am fundamentally, painfully, alone.
It is not, I think, that I do not play well with others. To the contrary, my boss when I worked at a small short-order restaurant praised me for my ability to train new employees and my coworkers often commented to each other about how much "the customers love her!"
Rather, I believe this isolation to be a result of the transience of the connections I forge. While I may exchange jovial snark with the young man smoking at the edge of the sidewalk, I will never get his phone number. I will not see him again.
I do not dig into the abundance of small ways I influence others. I do not try to pull them into the broader scope of my life. I continue down the sidewalk, sassy, sweet, and solitary.
In many ways, I am little more than a bright, shiny, memory.
"Where you goin' lookin' so pretty, girl?"
I turn and walk backwards for a moment, laughing as I reply, arms stretched wide in an invitation to the world: "Why, anywhere and everywhere I can go, good sir!"
He grins back at me and nods. "You alright, girl, you alright."
I continue along my way, feeling expansive and connected to everyone I pass, touching lives with my high-heeled glide and half-smile.
But I am fundamentally, painfully, alone.
It is not, I think, that I do not play well with others. To the contrary, my boss when I worked at a small short-order restaurant praised me for my ability to train new employees and my coworkers often commented to each other about how much "the customers love her!"
Rather, I believe this isolation to be a result of the transience of the connections I forge. While I may exchange jovial snark with the young man smoking at the edge of the sidewalk, I will never get his phone number. I will not see him again.
I do not dig into the abundance of small ways I influence others. I do not try to pull them into the broader scope of my life. I continue down the sidewalk, sassy, sweet, and solitary.
In many ways, I am little more than a bright, shiny, memory.
12/12/11
Change for the Better
I paint my face in the colors of pretend, claiming this isn't the beginning; this is the end. I am unfortunate enough to make that reality, because we manifest what we believe.
I gave myself almost completely only once - just once, and that was because I knew I had to leave. Truth is, I'm scared that I'll be alone always, and when I walk in the streets, all the passers-by will see. So I paint on the mask and I keep a safe distance, so I won't lose control and be devastated when no one shows up for tea.
The irony is that I want to reach out and dance with the people, laugh with them and be glad we're alive. The only thing stopping me is really quite silly; I want me to stop sabotaging me. I want to scrape all the paint off and close the distance, forget my control and my fears. I'll be alone always if I can't learn to let the beginning begin and the end be elsewhere entirely.
So, help me wash my face with the waters of reality, give myself completely, stride through the streets, forget about distance, and not care who shows up for tea. I want to reach out and dance with you, laugh with you and be glad we're alive. I want you to be different from all the others before - I want to change for the better for you.
I gave myself almost completely only once - just once, and that was because I knew I had to leave. Truth is, I'm scared that I'll be alone always, and when I walk in the streets, all the passers-by will see. So I paint on the mask and I keep a safe distance, so I won't lose control and be devastated when no one shows up for tea.
The irony is that I want to reach out and dance with the people, laugh with them and be glad we're alive. The only thing stopping me is really quite silly; I want me to stop sabotaging me. I want to scrape all the paint off and close the distance, forget my control and my fears. I'll be alone always if I can't learn to let the beginning begin and the end be elsewhere entirely.
So, help me wash my face with the waters of reality, give myself completely, stride through the streets, forget about distance, and not care who shows up for tea. I want to reach out and dance with you, laugh with you and be glad we're alive. I want you to be different from all the others before - I want to change for the better for you.
12/5/11
From Beneath You
Sometimes you fall down the rabbit hole. No real reason for it - logic just crumbles from underneath you and then you're tumbling, blue silk skirt over your head, into the maw of emotion. From beneath you, it devours.
I am strange. I know it. I always have. I've never really been moved to change it.
I am alone. I know it. I always have, no matter how I sometimes wish that I didn't know, or that I could change it.
Sometimes you fall down the rabbit hole. It doesn't make any sense, but that's the nature of the beast. One moment, you're perfectly normal, wearing a pretty blue silk skirt, laughing and talking with everyone else at the party. The next moment, everything you relied on is inexplicably gone, leaving you blind, with no idea what's happening or why, only aware that you're falling and must eventually land.
From beneath you, it devours.
I am strange. I know it. I always have. I've never really been moved to change it.
I am alone. I know it. I always have, no matter how I sometimes wish that I didn't know, or that I could change it.
Sometimes you fall down the rabbit hole. It doesn't make any sense, but that's the nature of the beast. One moment, you're perfectly normal, wearing a pretty blue silk skirt, laughing and talking with everyone else at the party. The next moment, everything you relied on is inexplicably gone, leaving you blind, with no idea what's happening or why, only aware that you're falling and must eventually land.
From beneath you, it devours.
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