What Else Is There to Know --Last Post to This Site

Since quit blogging is the latest trend, I will follow.

this will be the last posting to this site.

I have been living in New York.

There is nothing to regret for.

I have been listening to too many Beatles lately. We both did, together.

Many moons ago, you told me: I want to give you what you want, because it is also want I want.

I said: I don't want something that I begged for. I don't want it. You sound like you are giving it to me as if I have begged for it.

We parted on the 32 street and broadway. You went for a drink afterwards by youself.

You came back with burning passions. We should not have started it. But of course we did. It was beyond our control. It was too strong.

It was strong enough to happen despite all the reasons that we know we should not. But it is not strong enough to win over an obsession over something lost, after so long. It was strong enough to burn, but not to compete with something that suffered a sudden death, so it never really die for you. I doubted it ever will.

I used to ask you about where you were,
"Were you happy OK or comfortable OK?"
"I was comfortable OK. "

Memory cheats or we just don't know what our hearts are telling us. Maybe you are only able to remember happiness in grief and mourn when all is gone and lost.

Maybe you can only say something when there is no consquence of that saying. Maybe you can only feel but not act. You know you can still act to regain the lost past.

Why we have to throw away the now over the past?

Residual love is not good enough for me, for us. I don't have a better name for what you hand me right now.

For a very brief moment, I thought it is something better. Something we deserve. When you looked at me in my eye, and said what you said. But it got overwritten so easily by others things you say or choose to say.

I don't know when you are telling the truth. Or maybe I do.

So do you.

All is clear, under the sun.

What else is there to know? About you, about me, about all the faceless names and people we know, talked to, touched, whose blog we loved to read.

Thomas, I don't know the answer for your question. I wonder whether we can ever list all the things we want to and are able to know about other people, no matter how close we think we have gotten to.

To want to know someone is dangerous, like to love someone openly, since we expose ourselves to reach out and never know what we get back.