sometimes i open up this blog and read through past entries and laugh. they are all so different. somehow, thought, when i read them, they all make sense together. they all tell the twisty windy stories that twirl around in my head. like puzzle pieces that don't make sense out of context.
i peruse others blogs and they are so consistent and so organized and just make sense. and mine? a gathering of words. a telling of tales. an expression of feeling.
and yet. to me. they weave the fabric that has made my life. in each one i remember that moment, that feeling, that voice. perhaps my blog is not so strange. perhaps it is just simply me. a me that i feel comfortable, and sometimes scared, to share. a me that wants to remember the moments well.
so i will keep telling the stories and noting the moments.
and i will probably remain all over the place for a long long time.