5 thoughts on ““Who Lives In Mirrors”

  1. To rip off Samuel L. Clemens, I believe not writing as Mark Twain, of his poem “The War Prayer” which he did not release until after his death: “I have told in this a (?the?) truth as only a Dead Man may.) I’m glad you loved the work, Shehanne. I had some trepidation I had moved the personal curtain a mite too far. I’ve always talked to my mirrors, sometimes argued. They’re the kind which brook no lies and keep saying (“B.S.: peel another layer of the onion, J, and tell me what’s really going on.”) Tough crowd, they. I’d have it no other way…generally, though, my ablutions are sans reflecting glass…that is, until the mustachios begin yelling “teeth touched me! Make them stop!” I with with a bunch of unruly parts, so sometimes I have to beat them with Truth. Be well, my dear lady, and enjoy all your “hearts” desires this Saint Valentine’s Day.” J

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    • Twain/Clemens was a wonderful writer. I think a lot of us and I am not talking the folks that just want to shove their bleeding heart and guts on a plate for us all to suffer, who blog every little non interesting bit of their non interesting day, life, week, give the rest of us complexes about showing too much. Cos let’s face it are we that interesting? Well, that is the question I ask myself . BUT, equally I also think it is true that those with the most to say..real things to say.. don’t want to put it out there. So when they do, and they move the curtain that bit, they then think…Why did I do that? But why not? So well done.

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      • Now that you and Sammy have tweaked my complexes about…though I do agree: why not? Indeed. And your commentary and little revelations do inspire, Shehanne. The junior year (high school) English teacher who practically threatened me with a Zero Grade to make me read a typical teen boy’s short story about basketball, grades, girls, life to the rest of the class did not respond well when I remarked: “I only got a ‘C’ on this story. Yes’m: I know I type miserably when I’m in a hurry, but you do know my handwriting makes my typing look like a Rodin statue, don’t you? I am reading this under protest and I plan to take this up with Mister Bracken (A. J., a pal, and Principal) to see if coercion is allowed.” Teacher Bisbee did not bend. But the experience did cure The Blushes since I figured all the spare blood in my cheeks took seven years of story-writing and poetry to drain back for a second bout. I greatly enjoy your commentary and after a quick read of what’s next up in the queue on WP I hit comments and grin when I see you all in yellow, grinning. You are too good for my no-longer so-shy self. Thanks, Your Ladyship.

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  2. Still, I have yet to claim a post on preferential meaning of the line “lies with a secret knowledge” in the second line: originally it was about deliberate un-verisimilitude, but then I quandaried over whether Lie or Lay was the appropriate cast in positional state of being. Addicted to Ambiguity? Sounds like another run-up to find a fit for that, Shehanne. See you soonerishly.

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