Long ago in a galaxy far far away...

Some time ago I got a letter from my past. There was this girl I knew when I myself was just a young girl, on the verge of becoming a young adult.

We belonged to the same group of young girls, sitting and discussing life, as if we knew it well, while in reality we had only just begun walking the independent road away from immediate parental guidance.

We called ourselves women, feminists, witches...perhaps the seeds for all those things where buried within us, and through establishing the titles we in fact planted the seeds.

We had just begun to understand the impact we had on the other sex, and the confused feelings we ourselves held toward the other half of humanity were bound tight on a leach, but struggling violently for freedom. Those fragile but new and shiny weapons we had to use in our dealings with men scared us, but we held them casually with faces of fake experience, and secretly compared them among each other.

Some of us got hurt, some one nearly died, some one betrayed another, some held true. One became a young mother and this letter was from her.

She gave birth to a small dark haired girl with slanted eyes and a curious little mouth with up turned angles. I became this girls god mother. I held her in my arms like a doll and felt a pang of love for her in my own reckless way.

But those times where for wandering, and I packed my bags and moved far away, not forgetting, but being occupied with walking all those never ending numerous paths in search of fortune, affection and enlightenment. She did that too, in her own way. She tried very hard to hold her relationship together, but as with so many young relationships of that kind, it did not hold.

She struggled on with her little girl, sometimes crying through the hardness and sometimes hitting a streak of gold. I saw them from time to time, but never often. It is a long time ago now.

So this letter from the past came to haunt me. I am going down south sometime this spring to meet them.
The little girl is in school now. When she sees me she will look at me from my ragged head down to my unpolished toes, she will make her own observations with her slanted eyes, and perhaps she will say to me: "you don't look like a godmother".
I hope then that I will be able to say something clever back to her, something that will make her like me. Something that will make her let me play with the tip of her nose and make her giggle. For I suspect that she has a lot more to offer me, than I will ever have to offer her.

I have too little sand in my hourglass

Have you ever had one of those days were time is a certain amount of sand grains that run through your fingers too fast?

You get up early, you work hard, you only think about how much you want to rest and do other things when you finish...but when you're granted freedom, it brushes your forehead in an absent minded and hasty, but still loving way, like a single mother caresses her child while halfway out the door. And then she's gone. And then it's gone. And you know you just have to try to sleep tonight, because you hit rock bottom the night before, and did not go to bed at all.

Also I feel like things are running by me and leaving me out. It's not so dramatic, just the on line addict talking. My ICQ and AIM has trouble coping with my server right now, had the same trouble 2 weeks ago, but it stops me from talking with my ICQ friends..and WHAM - I feel left out, even if I really don't chat all that often. The fact that I can't bugs me.

...and when I realize just how much writing I have to do, I just want to start head banging into my computer screen.

Yes Northernveil..it is about this time in the rant that I normally would begin with my endless babble about the time bubble theory, but I'll spare you the distress this time.