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the rules of improv

"The answer to each moment must be 'yes'
and the question, 'can you live with it?' becomes the test"

Today, I am air.
you should see me, I'm beautiful.
but there is no observer.
And, I am not well suited to this deconstruction.
Some one, who took them self not to have a self at all.
Born into secrets and die with them too,
never knowing
That I felt.
"rip me open and show me my soul!"
I tell her.
There is part of me that is scared not to know.
I want this time to be different.

There is a part of me that is fearless, and knows
the fear was never me;
this is different.
And I no longer tell my flying from my falling.

So, when I feel myself lean closer to a gravity not my own,
I pull back to my foot prints and this
is good.

But from where I stand, could I reach out and touch
and neither push nor pull
but love,
could I be with you?

I feel this touch on this cell that I breathe through,
and I breathe you,
surging hard up my spine
and I breathe you in as you're breathing, and
I promise to be soft.

And I promise to move slowly
along this thing that looks like boundary
across this thing that looks like line
between possible,
and forever unknown.

I promise to move softly.


yes you are beautiful

(and not just because you don't have a "pack of hot dogs" on you)

thanks. you people and your hot dog references.

oh, and I love you.

i love hot dogs... hmmm bacon wrapped... mmm.

I think of all your holywood stories. I have so many memories associated with baconated hot dogs, though Ive never had one:
--something about aaron with his feet wrapped in duct tape.
--something about asian girls vomiting (i think...or did I make that one up?)
--and then magic show rehesal space with satan and tb floor and out side...?
hookers and baconated hotdogs!

bacon is so good.

though i've never wrapped my hot dog in bacon.

aahhhhhhhhh........ anus.

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