I’ve always been conflicted about reincarnation. From earliest childhood I’ve had, let’s call it an “obsession” with France and all things French. Does it stem from the fact that both my first and middle names are “French”? Why, since earliest memory, do I cry when I hear the French national anthem? Why has it always moved me so? The scene in Casablanca? Niagra falls Frankie angel”.
I still want to speak French fluently, think in French. Sure. I knew enough when my brother and I got lost in Paris (in a not so good part of the city) to walk into a bar and ask the bartender “comment puis-je obtenir au…. rue?” But so what? SFW. What have I been waiting for?! What am I waiting for? Why am I waiting is the important, “whispered” question.
Fear is all encompassing in the world of a clark. Fear and self loathing are at the core of all clarks. Yes, I will have to talk of this again. Can’t drop that bomb in casual conversation without further discussion. Right now? I’m admitting in front of the werld that I’ve been avoiding a trip to the “root cellar”. What’s down there that I don’t want to see, recognize, admit or deal with? What am I afraid of finding? The truth? (no. no link for that one!).
A not so casual glance at the clock tells me that if I don’t get off my butt right this very minute I will be late for work. I’ve never done a “Part Two” – wait! “Part Deux” blog post. Let’s see if I can pull it off. Let’s see if I actually come back, re-read this post and carry over the conversation to another day. Perhaps at a different time of the day. Will I still feel the same? Am I simply caught up in a moment?
Something tells me I had better return. Here. There. And I had better htfu.