Hey Rhys,
Still no word from you, your love, or anyone who might know you whereabouts. I’ve been thinking a lot about you still though, I think it be almost a 50/50 split between you and X.
I know I’m supposed to be trying to reduce the amount of time I think about X, but the other day I tried writing some poems about my own break up, from scratch. They were not very good. I realised that I can’t write about X at all, but I’m not sure if it’s because I loved him too much, or not enough. I don’t think it’s the first one. And I don’t think I loved X as much as you two love each other. I mean, I was crushed when I found out about him and Vern, but I guess it was more because V was supposed to be my friend, right? But I think I’m figuring out that that’s what hurt me more, Vern being the other person, the other half who broke my hearts. She tore off the bigger pieces, I think.
Anyway, I gave up trying to turn my pain into art, even though I’ve read that it’s a very good way to deal with it, and reread the diaries I found in Sal’s files instead. I know that for Earth people what counted as poetry was a little bit different to what counts as poetry to us. But as I was reading over the diaries again, these words started to jump out at me, words and a few whole phrases. It was really weird, I've never reacted to words this way before. But every time I read them over something activates, a sound starts to bounce around. I read a paper on this human thing called synesthesia for Human History, I think it might be something like that.
Anyway, after I figured this out I re-read them again, to see if the words changed, if they were like ripples in oil or fingerprints or whatever. But they didn’t change. Same words, same order.
I’m not sure if this is me dealing with my own sore heart, or something bigger, maybe one of you is trying to reach me? Either way, it feels like it means something, so I’m going to put them up here, too. If we all read things differently, then everything has the potential to be poetry, I guess.
Anyway, I made some voice recordings of the poems, I borrowed Sal's vox translator so that my voice will be clearer, and easier to understand. What you are reading here, if you are reading this, is the Earth version of this blog, and I know you communicate in both audio and written language, so I’m posting both. I’m trying to make as many different versions of this blog as I can, for as many different species, in case either you or your love has made it to somewhere that isn't one of our stations. I've been trying to figure out if the garden ne has written about in the first scraps is one of ours, but it doesn't sound anything like a fuel station, or a hospital. It’s taking me a while, I don’t really get a lot of sleep these days. I love doing it, though. Anyway, I hope you can understand what I am saying. To be honest, I’m not even sure yet either.
And again, if you can hear/read me, Rhys, or have any more information for me, or you want to get in touch, send me an email at therhysfiles@gmail.com
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