Friday, November 19, 2004

Forgive me for what I'm about to do.

Eyes closed. Cleansing breath. A slight bend in the knee and . . .

I was watching Sam I Am tonight. It was there. I was here. I really don't have an excuse. I was watching Sam I Am. In it, Sam, autistic tendencies, low IQ, fights for custody of his daughter Lucy. Rita Harrison defends him and--you could predict this, so I'll put it in as sappy of language as possible--makes her own inward journey to learn about love, friendship, and how we are not the sum of our limitiatons.

Okay.

And fancy this. I fell victim to suggestion and travelled my own little journey of introspection and self revelation. I overstate. Just introspection. I always start these blasted journeys, but never seem to come out where or when they want me to. I just don't have that good of turn around I guess.

Stop. This is much too indulgent and slightly (understate) insincere. And no one has really any clue what I'm talking about, me included. So perhaps I should take stock, regroup--not in that particular order, I think--and get back to this later.

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