Words from the past

October 28, 2009

So yesterday I read this article from Off-Beat Bride and in it two things were mentioned… Cringe and the Salon of Shame.

Anything with names like that has to be looked at.  So I looked.  I could not imagine anything more horrifying that reading my diary entries from age 12 to a group of strangers unless it was reading my diary entries from age 12 to a group of friends.

Thank goodness I don’t keep a diary.

So I took this new and interesting information and shoved it to the back of my head.

Then Ally called.  I told her about people reading their old diaries and she said I’d never guess what she found today.  You guessed it… old diaries.  Not from when she was 12 but old enough to be a different lifetime.

She read random passages.  They were actually more interesting now than when I heard them the first time around.  Time had aged them well.  Or maybe I just have a different perspective now.

Since she was reading her old writing, I thought I’d try to dig up some of my own.  I found a few notebooks with old snippets of stories I was writing or was going to write.  Random paragraphs that might or might not have had a story attached to them at one time.

She really liked this one piece that she thought made a good poem.  I think it was supposed to be an introduction to a story about mummies or aliens.  I have no idea which.

Anyway, she wanted me to type this up, so I did.  And here it is…

Something happened in the desert.  Out in the golden seas of grains and wind.  Where waves of time beat against the earth in a battle that has no end.

Something happened in the desert, in the ocean of history and mystery.  In the rocks and the sand.  In the place of kings and empires and death and forever.

Something happened in the desert.  In a place I only remember in my soul.  In a time I never lived.  In the womb of all life going back in waves of grain and tides of time.  Back beyond life, inside its center.

Something happened in the desert.  And if we don’t do something soon it will happen again.

Blood spills freely and without end over the same sand that cradled civilizations.  Something happened in the desert and no one believes me.


She likes it but personally I find it overwrought.  Oh well, to each their own.

Night.

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