It's been a while, try again
What I had in my head earlier and I should do more with later
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You take an animal and make it human. You ask it questions. It answers or it doesn't.
You take an animal and make it human. You tell a story about its life.
You take an abstract concept and make it human. It meets other abstract concepts you've also made into humans. Things happen.
You take a human who is dead and you make him or her alive to meet other humans who are already alive. They have dinner and other things happen.
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This is one of those moments where I wonder what writing things like this with my fingers rather than my thumbs will change
My thumbs fly now, but my fingers fly faster
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I'm afraid this cold is catching up to me, and being awake at this hour / sleeping this little sure isn't helping
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You take a disease and make it human. You have it talk to its living victims -- or you make its dead victims (if it's that kind if disease) alive again to talk to it. Or they beat it up. Things happen.
This is the third or fourth time this week that I had a strong recalling of what it felt like to be in my teens and 20s during the height of the AIDS epidemic in America.
I'm not saying that in an unfeeling way -- it is by no means gone, and it is certainly still a raging epidemic elsewhere.
I'm more talking about the me I was, the very different perspective I had back then and the very different world it was.
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Yeah, this isn't how you write yourself back to sleep
2 comments:
Beautifully done and true. The end surprised me--I had to go back to remember where we started this journey into the anthropomorphism of the pen . . . and, yes, it could bore us to sleep--except for the AIDS memory--but then apologies, apologies, apologies and sleep comes.
Thanks. But sadly it led to all reading and no more sleep...
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