Kurrs' Digital Tapestry of Words

Wow.

I just read Erin's first LJ post.

Wow.

My head reels. We are so different. Sometimes I can't even fathom how we're such a great fit. Is she Alice, and I the looking glass? Her, a world of normality and reasonable limits, but staring at a reflection of jagged glass and darkness that shows those things wrong with her normal life? Me, a twisted angry beautiful image, exactly like her but possessing all the jagged edges on my person, staring longingly at the beautiful simplicity that is her and the possibilities of change.

I'm not saying that my life is that hard, or that her life has been easy, but ... the differences are extreme. She comes from a world where no one has ever touched her in anger, where malicious physical harm is something that happens to other people. I come from a world where violence is normal, where physical harm (both violent and not) has haunted my steps at every stage of my life, where blood, broken bones, bruises, and hurting and being hurt by those that I love and those that I hate is all too normal. Where her baggage fits in a sharp little box, with depths and complexities, where mine are huge and many but stangely simple.

I view the world as a place where I'm not sure I can define good. That the world merely is and that is fine, it is beautiful and wonderful into itself. That the only thing I can define is immorality, those actions that are wrong and that, in the absence of these acts, I am happy. I have seen evil, and loved it, and hate myself for it. An absence of these terrible things is all that it takes to make me happy. Truly happy.

She lives in a world that just is, where an absent of good acts is the norm. That that norm is a terrible place of apathy and hurting, and that one must fill the gaps with good deeds. But that no real intentions are wrong, just misguided. For her to be happy, she must be creating things of lasting value, that are good. Otherwise, she is sad.

I'm not describing this right, but I just feel so overwhelmed, I need to get it out. How we work so well is beyond me, but we do. So similar, yet from such different worlds.