For all my electronic mails, I use GMA's and gmail. The latter, I decided on jusz this year. Perhaps a premonition of things to come. The witch in me, I guess. :)
So I don't come to yahoo to check my emails. My closest of kith and kin know that. All my three yahoos :(. I don't go there. I don't use updates. Am pretty safe.
I grew tired of Yahoo Profile, Yahoo Pulse now. My last update was early this year. Or may be I can put it this way, I am growing fonder of my new home for my online journal ... here :) ... Yahoo Profile to me has become too lazy, lousy. I am only connected to four of my friends in YP. Not much of a network really. We're all active in FB anyway. A lovelier garden :)
And YM ... I was told that my original addy was deleted from the list a long time ago. And maybelle, stealthed, since 2008, that's confirmed. I was written off after I bravely lambasted his girl, Hali, in one of my stats. I was sorry for calling them pigs and dogs. But I meant what I said, I ain't taking anything back. One year forward, I was proven right, Hali's true colors, and all his consents to that.
I still go online, from time to time, depending on my mood, depending on who's online. I use either of the three, irma, maybelle, lillad ... And when I do, most likely I am invincible, errrrr .... invisible, and my useful, one-way mirror ;)
Extremist ... I either hit the bed early or leave it until my power box explodes :)
Technically, I am behind iron curtains. What my friends have seen and read, confirmed or otherwise. It will hang like a scythe above me, ready and waiting to chop my neck, and make my head roll. And even if it does, I ain't looking up anymore, only to see, in its full glory, the blades that will hit my face.
People miss me there. My friends.
But there are other playgrounds. We see each other there. My friends. People who miss me there.
So I won't let it happen again, for the nth ...
I cut. I bleed.
You watch.
I die.
You turn away.
I like to remember things my own way. how i remembered them, not necessarily the way they happened. I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. My DeLicioUs ambiguity.
... my other garden ;)
About Me
- Irma
- I'm not a graceful person. I'm not a Sunday morning or a Friday sunset. I am a Tuesday 2AM, I am gunshots muffled by a few city blocks, I am a broken window during February. My bones crack on a nightly basis. I fall from elegance with a dull thud, and I apologize for my awkward sadness. I sometimes believe that I don't belong around people, that I belong to all the leap days that didn't happen. The way light and darkness mix under my skin has become a storm. You don't see the lightning, but you hear the echoes.
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