I Will Remember You... Will You Remember Me?

Sara McLachlan is singing, and I'm in the mood to write. This is one of the times when the music imposes the mood, when I feel this kind of saudade that doesn't let me sleep, when a conversation over MSN is not a good idea, but a kiss (an impossible kiss at this time and space) is.

I like to write here. It's so far from the noise of C:\GEEK>, where I'm expecting to be heard. I don't have much of an audience there; people usually write comments like "oh yeah I remember", and the most usual ones are things that have nothing to do with what I have written. Maybe I'm a sucky writer. Maybe I should stick to writing for nobody, keeping all the words to myself. I don't even know what I'm expecting... maybe a true reader? But, what is a true reader? One that feels identified with my poor thoughts and responds sincerely... That thing doesn't exist. They read because I ask them to, they talk because I ask them to. They don't listen. (Coldplay is playing, Trouble makes me feel sad...)

So yeah, that's Geek. Lonesome stories for lonesome results. Sometimes I regret the small audience I've gained there. Not that I hold anything against them personally, it's just that I've stopped writing my own stuff. Well, Ganbatte! was made for my own stuff. Still, even if my words are destined to a certain group of people, they don't open mouths, they don't move fingers. My life has nothing to offer except for a smile and an ear. I'm so much of an ear that nobody thinks I actually have something to say. I could try to speak a thousand times, a thousand times I would be interrupted. There are exceptions (you know who you are), and those exceptions prevent my life from falling into emptiness.

I'm not an absolute loner. I have a family and a fairytale warrior to save me. I'm just convinced that my place is just not here.