10.24.2008

An Experiment, or, Trolling for Fodder



An Experiment.

Leave me an anonymous comment pouring your heart out. Say anything. Tell me your stories, your secrets, those things no one ever asks but you're dying to tell. Tell me about your love, your hate, your indifference, your joy. Tell me about what's inside of you when you read these poems, and tell me why you continue to come back here. Tell me anything. Anything.

Post anonymously. Speak honestly. Post as many times as you like.

CAVEAT: Your confession may become a poem. Nobody, including me, will ever know it's yours, but please beware that poem-ization is a distinct possibility.

25 comments:

Anonymous said...

Deep in my heart of hearts, I love someone that I may not love. But, he belongs to another and so do I. I know that my spouse knows and I suspect that the object of my affection knows, too, but says nothing about it.

Every now and then I find a poem or piece of music that identifies with what I am carrying in my heart.

But there is a very real sense that I must move on. I must not become obsessed with my interior struggles. I have a life (a very full one) that I must live. It is a balancing act and a constant struggle to live with my loves ordered rightly.

Anonymous said...

I am in a very similar situation, except that as far as I know, my spouse and the object of my affection are as yet unaware. It is some kind of misery, sometimes more than I can bear, but there is no easy or even acceptable solution that I can see.

Anonymous said...

Sometimes I daydream about getting laid off and leaving my lease, my friends, my marriage, and running away to live alone somewhere where no one can find me.

Anonymous said...

I read your blog when I'm supposed to be calling customers.

Anonymous said...

I don't think this will help you write a poem, but I admire you. And I think you already knew that ;)

Anonymous said...

I have a passion for riding horses. I made a choice when I was young to give up my passion for a good life. I chose to marry a good man that is allergic to horses and move to suburbia where my children have great opportunities and a full childhood with a very involved mother rather than a full time horse woman turned part time mom. I dream and fantasize about taking my life savings, leaving my responsibilities and life as I know it to enter the show horse circuit.

Anonymous said...

A close family member of mine was anorexic for years. I watched in sadness as she crossed through the mirror -- to that other side where the less you are, the more powerful you become. She slowly wasted. I was angered and sorrowed by what she was doing to us and yet, at the same time, a small part of me said "I wish I could do that." It's completely irrational, but I, too, hate my body. It isn't perfect enough; it isn't smart enough. I know, in the end, none of this matters, but for years I have been a borderline anorexic, balancing on the edge of the mirror world. I don't alter my eating, but I catch myself wishing I could because somehow that would make me more worthwhile. I would mean something.

Anonymous said...

I am only vaguely attracted to my fiance in a physical manner. I find myself loving her, but being much more attracted to women friends of mine, or complete strangers. I am ok with this, and that is the part that makes me feel the worst.

Anonymous said...

My eyes see beauty everywhere. Every day I witness acts of strength, perfection and grace. But I have the mouth of a cynic, and when I try to tell people about the wonders I see it comes out all wrong.

Anonymous said...

All I want to do right at this moment is make love to a gorgeous woman who is, sadly, several states away. Happily, this is but only a temporary geographical cockblock, as it metaphorically were.

I wouldn't say no to a giant fresh-from-the-oven chocolate chip cookie either.

Anonymous said...

I have always envisioned myself dying young. I'm 26.

Anonymous said...

I feel more and more like a sellout every day. I'm afraid that, when I get married next year, it will just bring me one step closer to completely buying in to materialism and consumerism, hoping to find happiness in the catalog and the mall.

Anonymous said...

my friend cheated on her husband. i know this and sometimes i'm afraid that i will blurt it out when i'm not supposed to. i wasn't supposed to tell anyone but i had to tell another friend just so the overwhelming responsibility of knowing didn't kill me.

it's scary to know that i have some information that could so greatly change someone's life. i don't like having that much power.

Anonymous said...

When I stop and think about it, I am very afraid that I have already lost my greatest love and that I will be alone for the rest of my life. I try not to stop and think.

Anonymous said...

my biggest fear is losing control. when i was really depressed, i think i found comfort in the fact that i could control if i lived or died. when i was younger, i never thought i would make it to my mid-20's.

i wonder sometimes if i do things that are so bad for me just so i can be in control of something

Anonymous said...

I am completely in love. Though I have known him for five years, every time I see him, I fall in love with him all over again. I love his quirks: his obsession with spelling and grammar, his need to alphabetize his books, his continuous tinkering with the car. I love his talents: his ability to make amazing dishes from scratch, his musicality, his wit.

Despite spending my past two relationships avoiding marriage, I want to marry this man.

Anonymous said...

I sometimes wish that I could be all by myself, with no one to worry about but myself. I wonder what it would be like just to go to work and not have to worry about getting people up for school or what I am going to make for dinner for the family. I'd like go out to dinner whenever I wish, to see whomever I wish to see. But then I realize that I would be very lonely without the ones I love. And I would eventually replace them with other people. I could never really be alone.

Anonymous said...

your picture makes songs. all my life i've been leaving people. i left you, more than once, and still beneath the ink cloud of practised disappearing -- all these miles -- i think about you; i wonder about you and i wonder about madness. i wonder if you could have perfected me, and if i could give you any thing. and so dazzling is this fashion of perpetual distance that i rarely notice how, in my ghoulish private researching and well wishing and mumbling hoping-the-best of unsanctioned friends and the long lost, i am in fact loving from afar.
i suddenly began to settle down and make a home. how difficult! and i met and made two friends. two good friends. and i left them both; ugly. then we met for drinks last night and i was blessed with the small fortune of a late-night conversation with one of them, who was a potential lover with me at one time. i was so happy to see her smiling and maturing, and she knew it. i asked her to tell me anything from her life, and she browsed through her many thoughts and memories that i'll never see and looked up at me to say simply: chris, you missed so much. and i promptly burst into tears, because it was all my fault and of course my care for her had never deminished. i must quit leaving people. it is so unnecessary.
and now it's raining outside and i'm supposed to be a musician and i have this picture of you that reminds me of my disappearance, which, like all disappearances, was a failure. but in this picture, in your smile or your eyes, is a defiant hue of success, and it makes me wildly happy. i think of a whip that snapped its bite just three inches below the shell of my chest. that's what i felt when i saw your picture, and my hand lept out to make a fist around the neck of my guitar because, while wondering has no vocabulary, the only word that came to mind in that moment was 'song'.
it's easy to wonder, but hard to know, how you are these days. is it fair to say that i care about too many to really care at all? or am i just a coward? does it make sense to send you my well wishings? i think it does. and i do.

Anonymous said...

there is nothing more delicious than the inside of a popcorn bag

Anonymous said...

Have you ever done something that you knew was stupid when you thought of doing it, felt stupid doing it and decided to do it anyway and then felt just sick because you did?

Anonymous said...

I am blessed with many good friends and co-workers who truly care about me and I am always left wondering what it is they see and why I can't see it too.

Anonymous said...

Coming home from work last night, I noticed a pair of shoes outside my neighbor's door. It was snowing outside, so it made sense to leave wet shoes on the doormat. What struck me, I guess, was the fact that they looked simply kicked off and left there. They were not nicely placed, one next to the other, politely waiting for their owner to return. Instead, they sat in a haphazard way that suggested hurry, or lack of caring. I don't know why I noticed them. Perhaps it was the David Sedaris stories I was listening to on the drive home. Everything seemed like the beginning of a story. Even my neighbor's shoes.

Anonymous said...

I found you on the internet, and although we have never met, I have never even heard about you I think we are magically connected. I come from a land far away... . Your writings are mesmerizing... they origin from the eter and speak to my heart. How happy I felt to browse through your website.
PEACE - J

Anonymous said...

I know
I will be
grateful
later.

Anonymous said...

You asked what you could do. You should know (pay attention. this is very important) that I know your secret. You have cereal in your pocket. And I do as well. Thanks for being in the world. That, all alone, is more than enough.


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