Dear Diary...

This is not my diary.
You will not find the dirty laundry of my life etched out on your computer screen.
You will only see what I want you to see.

I have the power to shape your perception of me.
I give you glimpses into the world I have constructed for myself -
The life that springs from my imagination and my reality.

Here in the depth of my consciousness, I create the tapestry
Of hidden emotions, earth-shaking truths, and self delusions.
This is not my diary.

It is really that simple.

Spring Cleaning

Connected like
Dust particles to the surface of a
Coffee table -
easily disturbed.

We are tiny fragments
We are friends
Acquaintances

We perform acts of solicitude
Absolution and sometimes
Persecution

None of which is enough to quench the
Thirst for more - the desire for closeness;
A Kindred.
Someone to call my own
My confidant and confider

Commiseration becomes
Obligation -
Obligatory consolation
Until it becomes inconvenient and
Somebody settles

The thirst turns to
Dust in my throat and
I choke
Lightly and loudly

Lives connect
Intersect
Blown by a breeze or
Gently waxed over
Tossed with the towel in the trash

In the end you must
Separate your lives from one another.
Be honest with yourselves and each other
Never overestimate the pull of Life itself

Recognize that one of you is hair
The other skin
And both will be swept away in the end