Tangerine Trees

In an imaginary world these tangerine trees, perched under the sweet scent of marmalade skies would provide the shade of protection from that which we don't know. Our I's would be consistent and static, always translatable and knowable. Our constant selves would coast along without hesitation, drifting and floating--a boat in a river--never fearing a change in the tide or edge of a waterfall...

In our world we instead go forth, with any luck, remembering to smile as we drift past the flowers. There is no protection in this world unless you count one's potential awareness for vulnerability. At least then the surprises aren't so surprising. But isn't it that which makes the adventure an adventure?

With my head in the clouds, I'll never be prepared for the "I" I confront each day. Full of color and life that grows so incredibly high, "I" cannot tell you that what "I" write will look the same from one day to the next. Walt Whitman once said, "Do I contradict myself? Very well then, I contradict myself. I am large, I contain multitudes." This is the only way I know how to proceed. If you are looking for a sensible flow to the words on this page, it would be best to exit now. If you are however, looking for a raw and honest commentary on the procession of life, I will make all attempts to deliver. At some point I'll be sure to make you smile. Be forewarned that I may at some point, piss you off. Bare with me in moments where I have nothing to share but boredom, for at some point I'll make you laugh again. Surely nothing here will be profound, but a day may come where your heartstrings are tugged, or your eyes find the diamonds that make this life shine. Whatever it is, it is but a journey, but a dream... and you're gone.

In peace and love always,
Re*becca (The girl with Kaleidoscope I's)