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04 May 2030 @ 11:57 am
This journal has gone "friends only".

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16 December 2010 @ 02:20 pm

"Close it," she demanded, arms folded petulantly in front of her chest.

"It cannot be done"

"It can be! I've seen it done in others. I want it closed."

"Others are not you."

"That much I've learned by now."

"It is a gift."

"Well then it's a shitty gift!" she cried out, arms flinging down to her sides, hands clenching into fists in exasperation. The atmosphere seemed to shift in an indescernable way, she fought her guilt. "If it's a gift I should be able to refuse it, to return it for, for. . . A cash equivalent!" She was pretty sure that if her companion could blink in surprise, or raise an eyebrow in question it'd be doing so right now.

"There is no . . .'cash equivalent' as you call it. The gift is priceless. It cannot be valued in material worth."

"It's *not* a gift! It's a burden! And don't you *dare* say we are only given those burdens which we have the strength to bear, because that's not true." Her voice broke on that last bit, and embarrassingly tears came to her eyes. She would not let them fall. To do so would only prove their point, prove that this thing was within her, was part of her very nature, so fundamental a part of who she was that it could probably be seen at the cellular level. She refused to believe that it could not be shut down. Or at least….

"It is not something that can be cut out of you, like a malignant growth."

"It certainly feels like one."

"Only because your world mistakenly tells you it is unnatural, that it is a weakness."

"It is my greatest weakness! Cannot you not see how it makes me vulnerable?"

"I see only how it proves your strength."

She was getting nowhere, that was clear. She had to convince it, them, whoever. She had no choice. She simply could not go on this way, living like this. "Please, all it does is hurt me. Causes me so much pain. It makes it hard to breathe, hard to move. Please!"

"It only brings you pain?


"Really?" The tone was gentle, but skeptical.  Like a parent who had caught their small child in a stunningly transparent lie and was trying to coax the truth out of them.

"Fine, maybe not *only* pain, but it far outweighs any of the . . other . . . stuff."

"It will not always be so."

"I don't believe you."

"That is your choice. But not believing doesn't make the truth any less true."


There was silence then. She stood there, in the vastness, searching her mind for something, anything that could give her the amunition she needed. But she had used every argument she had. She had cried and screamed and yelled and begged, and it had all been for naught.

"It's not fair."

"What about it is unfair?"

"Why me? Why am I the only one?"

"You are not the only one. You are one of few, granted, but not the only."

"I'll find a way to close it. To stop this. I don't need your help."

"You might. But it would only be temporary. Eventually it will open once more."

"I never asked for this!"

"As I said, it is a gift."

She sighed, defeated. "You can't close it?"

"I cannot. Your heart is not a box, or a trunk. It is meant to be open."

"And you're sure there's nothing wrong with it? That it's normal for it to make me feel so strongly?"

"Perfectly so."

"Loving like this, it's like yelling in an empty room. I only get myself echoed back at me. It hurts. It's hard."

"Perhaps the answer is not what you seek. Perhaps closing it is not the solution."

"What is then?"

Things got quiet for a moment, as if her companion was thinking, as if they didn't quite know what to say.

"Do not give it away so easily. It is difficult to retrieve, and rarely comes back whole. There are bits, scattered about. That is somewhat to be expected with a creature such as yourself. I suggest that you give it only to those who deserve it. 

And above all, remember, please, to keep a piece for yourself."

27 November 2010 @ 01:01 am
I think it's the hat and the flirting with the crowd...

Old school.  Bad, bad quality. (heh)...

11 February 2009 @ 11:11 pm
Cross posted from my other blog and my post on Metafilter:

The Vimy Ridge Memorial is a common destination for Canadian travellers in France. As previous visitors have discovered, however, it is not the easiest place to reach once you get off the train. Thankfully, there's been help in the form of the Welcome Man (Windows Media embedded video --clip starts at 11:30). Over the last 13 years Georges Devloo has met the train at Vimy every day, where he offers free transportation to the memorial to confused and lost Canadians seeking to pay their respects. In this time, it's been estimated that M. Devloo has given rides other assistance to over 1,200 Canadians. Today, we said au-revoir to "le grand-père de Vimy".