"For us, our house is not insentient matter—it has a heart, and a soul, and eyes to see us with; and approvals, and solicitudes, and deep sympathies; it is of us, and we are in its confidence, and live in its grace and in the peace of its benediction. We never come home from an absence that its face does not light up and speak out its eloquent welcome—and we can not enter it unmoved."
—Mark Twain, 1896
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Wednesday, January 27, 2010

"Following"

Lately, as I’ve been scanning through some of the blogs that catch my fancy, ones that I follow in your sight, and ones that are hidden from your observation, I noticed a recurring thread: humans in this cosmos expire. Tributes are written, remembrances are posted, but life, for those with an expiration date not yet attained, does go on as usual, regardless.

I’ve seen the same person mentioned in several different blogs, taking care to read the accolades mentioned therein, thinking, with regard to some of the departed, that it would have been pleasant had I have ‘known’ them. There are links to the blogs they wrote giving me all the more insight into who these individuals were in this life.
 Or does it?

All of this makes me wonder. Do I write, depicting a painting on this white canvas, of me? Or someone I want the eyes of those who cross over into the world of my own making, to know? A person I WISH I was? Could it be a little of both, then? Will you be able to tell the difference? Will it even matter?

When I, therefore pass, will you be reading pure fantasy or a true and exact account of the person I was but never revealed in the 'real' world? Or is 'in here' the real world and 'out there' mere imaginings?

I will be sure to let you know.
After. Of course.
.

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