The Rooms in My House
I had a pretty strange dream a few hours ago. It's one of those dreams that keeps you on your feet, keeps you wondering whether it was real, and what was the significance of it. You know how it is that you remember some dreams, and you don't remember some. The idea is that some dreams are purposely built to be remembered, and the fact that they stay in your memory so fresh, there must be something about them that has to be significant.
And you know what? It probably is. Dear me, I ought not to be talking about dreams, after all, being freshly accused of being unaware of the real world and all that shit... plus the fact that some people actually walk on in and tell me that the fact that I blogged that particular chat shows that I'm concerned about SL not being the right one. You know what? Maybe you are right. Maybe you are wrong. But more importantly, the morale of the story was to tell you that people like myself do not appreciate loving help from people who walk out of your lives, and then all of a sudden walk back in pretending to know all there is to know about you. Because that's NOT NOT NOT true.
It's really true. Look, me, September 2002. Different from me, March 2004. Time flies. 22 years old vs 23-going-on-24. That's a one and a half year of difference, and with the events that I have sped past, undergrad thesis, graduations, breakups on Valentine's Day, false alarm alerts, the many-time changing of the blogging domain... well, well, THAT's my real life. Now who are you to argue with me, you, you and you, you who have only begun to know Minishorts in the short few weeks that you've stumbled on me, you who've only begun to synonymously identify Choo Ki with Minishorts, you who have maybe known me for the past 3-4, you who are so smart, OMG I simply sympathize with you for saying something such as, 'I don't know everything about you, but I know everything that can be seen.'
Friends, Family and Countrymen (was that the tune? wtf it doesn't matter)... I don't know everything about me, but I reveal everything there is for you to know... and you know what? Thank you for your time, thank you for taking a look... and welcome to my house, but please don't tell me the carpet is dirty. There is no carpet, if you see any it is only an illusion, and there are rooms that I forbid you to visit.
That sorta applies to every other facet of life you know. Things you can and cannot say. To friends you hate, enemies you love, and lovers you detest. Give us our space, and we will give you your respect.
