Fiction... scraps...

...Sometimes, I astound myself with the severity or acerbity of my observations. Many a time I feel that I could have held back or left unsaid those hurting words. And many barbs that wound deep I feel could have been left in my quiver. Even I quail at the look of fright when such a barb hits home and the wounded person before me reels back, a look of utter disbelief on their faces bearing mute testimony to the unexpectedness of the onslaught. I have the ability to withdraw my sympathies when the person before me has most need of it and has approached me only due to the many assurances of shared woes in the past.

It follows that I am no reliable shoulder to cry on...

FICTION

... So is this what childbirth feels like? Unbidden spasm after painful spasm- where the meaning of what is spewing forth eludes me... the grossness of something inside of me rushing forth with many pairs of expectant eyes devouring every minute drop...

I want my privacy. I want to be left alone to grapple with this thing inside me that wants to come out into this world.

The process of creation fascinates me. And the horror of it all is driven home to me in this moment- when strangers eyes are peering into my soul. Dare I bare it all? DO I have a choice? I feel that this piece has chosen me, and not I it.

The creation of this being has begun.

And was begun much before now. Maybe tomorrow it will be beautiful... or it may be grotesque... And all I shall be left with is the euphoria of the one spasm that will bring it forth into the world.

Shall that then be my claim to fame?

Will I feel responsible for it? Through the years when it takes form, I shall watch it with owning eyes. This was something inside of me. And when strangers come into my life on its behest, I shall watch carefully to see signs that my owning is melting away... the skin of my possession shall be torn from mine... rent with the pain of this moment.

Can I not begin that dissociation now? Can I not relieve myself of the pain of that parting by standing away? I shall distance myself from this my fiction... and leave it to the wanton pairs of eyes to rate...