Adventure – I wanted an adventure. A philosophical adventure, it turns out. And I wanted some fun. Some sparring. Some to and fro. There’s no more to and fro between my husband and I. I wanted to be aroused. Isn’t that the thing?
Wouldn’t you rather that I was far, far away and that you could write to me? Or write about me, your love for me, if it is love.
Distance – that’s what you’d like. Then I could become a fantasy figure upon whom you could project whatever you like. I’m too close to you. I’m too real. I’m too here. That’s not what you want, is it?
The sky’s sealed against us. We can’t get through. We can’t get to the other side. What’s it like on the other side? Blue, I imagine. I’d like to see the blue. This has been the coldest, greyest Spring, hasn’t it?
What does it all mean, philosopher? What does anything mean?
Work in Progress 