Postscript

I have worried at least one friend, slightly, and want to clarify something that just occurred to me. The difference between the written word and the writer. It’s short.

I realized that the writer person, writes things, and gets taken literally sometimes, and wants to say: “Don’t believe me, please, I’m just writing. “

“I’m fine.”

For example, I wrote this line earlier:

”Why wasn’t I born a frog?”

If I had kept it in, would you have believed me? Said: “Celia, don’t speak of yourself like that. You should want more for yourself, than just being a frog.”

See—it’s a throwing of a ball, a throwing of a thought, or flying a kite —it’s not a real psychic print out. It’s writing.

Or maybe I should say “just.”

I deliberately push the boundaries of what most people would say, maybe, but it’s not exactly me myself. Not to sound spooky.

I will (maybe) be more careful with my expressions of exaggerated states of mind. But if a painter paints a bear, they don’t present it as a bear. It’s an idea that could be a bear but it’s is not an actual bear.

These mind states are painted like the bear. Just some brush strokes, some possibilities.

I want to be believed but not taken literally or seriously.

I want to refract and reflect what I think we might all be feeling, not just me. I don’t want to idealize, or sanitize, that’s the main thing.

I’ll write more about my cats. Less about Zelensky, Trump, and various Theories of Everything.

If I did go a little pinball machine ‘crazy’ it was from too much Matrix and not enough real world.

Ok goodnight.

Thank you for staying, and keeping me company.