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Micha Julian

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Member Since: Sep, 2002

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The Sponge Paradox/1st Person & One Small Sponge's Enigmatic Journal...(an experimental 'story'/'memoir'...)
By Micha Julian
Thursday, December 05, 2002

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a metaphoric tale~ on humanity &...?~


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Dear Writer People,Hello, I am a sponge. That was not easy...saying hello. Please bear with me. I did it, 'tho!  I said hello and that is a beginning...it will probably get easier as I go along. So, I might as well continue.I may decide to tell you about...I may decide to write this in a journal, I would prefer that,I think...it might help me explain better about myself and sponges in general. We are a large, yet sometimes unrecognized and sometimes bothersome population.Then again, perhaps if I do continue here, it would be more courageous. Sponges are not particularly courageous--not in an ordinary sense. They can, however, often be quite daring...too daring at times. Impulsive. Thoughtlessly springing into action where action is unwanted. Sigh. We,well,I, wonder how many of you are aware of what a sponge's life is like. Er, we cry many tears, I suppose that is obvious, yet the tears...well, more on that later. I have allowed myself some restfulness this day, but have been wrung out anyway. Just a bit.Anyway, I do think I will try a little journal. Perhaps, if I could get other sponges to speak to you, I might be able to give you a better look at us. Oh ... and I do know a few clams who might be willing to speak up a bit. I just thought it was time for us, well, myself, anyway to speak up. If you are a sponge, also, please feel free to write me back...I'll have to figure out a way how. Maybe this person who is allowing me--well, no, she didn't actually invite me, but she MUST wonder where this has come from--so ...I think there will be a way. Oh, and she also must be reading this letter, right?  Hmmm.I suppose what I am trying to say is that if this letter is still here, she will not mind, or does not mind me using her place to write. I think that's a good sign.So, Thank-You all for allowing me to make a start.Sincerly,one small sponge
 

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oh, hi again...glad you could come.  um...want me to help clean something up for you? Or, well, maybe just let you squeeze a little stress out?   it doesn't hurt as long as you know how!    anyway, i guess i'll begin...did you read my letter? it's sort of an introduction, up there, see?   Well, either way, you can begin here if you want. i hope she (this writer person)Mdoesn't mind me using her space here? sigh..probably not, but you never know, anyway, welcome to my spongy world! I can't believe how brave i'm getting...! Wow...well, here i go...
 

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1.   sponges are people too!?  ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

i know, i know, sponges aren't really people, but we are in a way. i know some sponges who started out as people and i know some who were people in another life. i know that sounds strange to some of you, but, well, why would you be reading this anyway? i mean, if you didn't have open imaginations and all that. you are writer people, right? Or even reader people...i like writer and reader people, so it's okay...anyway, never did this before, so, well, i guess i just wanted to explain a little about sponges and people and sponge people and people sponges...gotta go my pores are clogging up, i'm confusing myself.
 

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2.  i soaked up my own pain this time...   ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

hi, again. i suppose you can see how hardened,dry and in need of a plunge into kinder waters i am this evening. i am ever so sorry, as today it was myself who, well, blew it, felt my own sponge pain, etc. -- and it was not pleasant. as a sponge, i quite naturally, find myself being overly polite, and so, of course, i apologize for this mood. in a way, to be honest...and this is terribly hard to say...soaking up another's woes is often far easier. that is a sponge's truth, one of them. yes, there are times when a sponge is needed to HELP a hurting other. a sponge is then useful to the other and to the self. yes, a sponge can sometimes come so close to feeling the other's hurt, that the sponge will be willing to hold the other's tears and Understand them; and just be there for the other to hold tightly and cry upon. if the other is soothed, released at least a bit of the strain of the hurting, it is good. when a sponge merely mops up all tears, or intrudes impulsively, it is not good... and, yes, a sponge is very capable of holding far too many angers and hurts inside, only to -- at some point -- explode with the fury of a hurricane of dangerous sheets of biting cold rain, creating floods of disastrous proportions... and then fling itself into retreat, unable to take in the slight moisture it needs to help it breathe and sigh. then it turns dry and hard and leaves itself willingly vulnerable to the pain of that sere state, and ...well, you perhaps understand, my writer people? i know some of you must have an idea. so, you found me quite dried up tonight and, oh, my human hurting friends, i will try to make you smile again, soon. if nothing else, for the sponges among you, i am glad that i allowed myself to at least try to tell these sponge truths, if only enough to let you see that you are not alone? that we are all part of nature and...well, enough, i think. may you all sleep well enough to dream of dewdrops of comfort. whomever you might be in here, you came, and so that is the little i might offer... i would prefer we all would dream and waken to a comforting lake of new lightness...perhaps we can wade together sometime. i am well acquainted with clam life and you who come here would probably be interested, or not. either way, good imagining, and goodnight... sponge
 

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3.   musings & hope & the sea--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

life, i know, is not pleasant for many. there are so many hurts inside people. you, the writers, the readers, have you ventured into the depths of each other's works. have you entered other's journals and cried...or worse, tears would not come as their pain entered you and settled in your guts, haunting and reminding you of how much hurt you, yourself have known. have you marveled at the courage and strength of these others, willing to not just write out a taste of their own hurting, but to open wounds, long sewn and tucked away, so that they might go on. have you thanked them in your own pain and returned their courage...let someone know, without intruding, just how heroic they are for daring... Well, i, my people friends am more at peace this night...but, still thirsty, still longing... a sponge can refuse to take it's water, yes, i have done that at times... yet, there are times when it is very much a danger for a sponge to sip at all, you know...truly. i know this is a bit cryptic, but it is not for me to reveal all the secrets here... i only know that if one of you, one visitor feels less alone--it means something. it may not make me more courageous, no... but, it brings a good feeling, it is a taste of the sea, it is a taste of goodness...don't many of you humans, need that taste, need to know that actions and words are not always in vain(or even simply vain), but more of a reaching out...to oneself and to another and another...there are sips of comfort in that, i think. i am sorry, i am getting a bit oddly off here...i am simply a sponge, one small sponge, not a literary maven ... i will leave that to you, my writer friends... perhaps there are those of you who find comfort in the sounds of the ocean at night? who can shed just enough worry to make for a moment of peace? OR even find the shore a place to shout and cry out all the hurt that is willing to reveal itself? OH, MY...i am one tired sponge, tonight. i watched my writer person, almost comically, lose so much she'd written (i'm surprised she didn't throw something...she, i surmise has a temper and a fragile tempermant, at least that is what i have soaked in in small ways from lurking within her world )... hmmm. sigh~Oh, all of you, i am anxious to read more here... i will bet you my writer person would like that too...i mean /read herself ...i know, by now, she knows i am here, but i don't know how much of what i've written here that she has read...and that is fine...unless, of course, she has or does and thinks...oh, no...No. well...she can always delete me...i believe i can as well...delete my sponge entries...bit feverish, tonight, don't you think...probably from the arid hole of yesterday and the hidden near laughter today (not very nice of me  but, well, in our own way, sponges are people, too--as i noted in this journal) ... so, good peekers and seekers of sponge wisdom and madness...not exclusive in people, those traits -- perhaps i am lucky to be just a small sponge, as person-like as one can be -- still, people have a much more difficult time. and so i wish you hope and some peaceful ease to face your tomorrow...

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Reviewed by Tactfully Naive 9/26/2006
Working with socially and emotionally troubled men and women in the ditch of life reduced me at times to being a sponge. But this sponge was a foolish sponge. He jumped into the ditch instead of reaching down to pull the guy up. I got soaked and sank in the mire; his or her mire - they hauled themselves out dry and just walked away. That's what it meant for me to be an unwitting sponge - to be sucked dry or soaked in someone else's problems and the discarded. I had to learn the hard way. You put it very reflexively.
Reviewed by Chuckie Finn 8/18/2004
You have touched so many lives Mich.*smile* I will always be proud of you. Just remember, a womans faults are many but men have only two. Everything that they say, and everything that they do...*smile*
Reviewed by richard poor 4/8/2003
i find this a very good transposition...
Reviewed by Rodney Bohen 4/6/2003
Micha Michele,
What a burst of womanhood you rest in twirling, empathy of lightly laced depth, painted upon dawns born, yet seen nor discovered. A heart such as yours remains a rare commodity to be found among mankind this day.
Gaurd well this earthen vessel and treasure so rare, for it remains the highlights of the sky, that keeps men looking upward in yes, hope, woven in steadfast grace. How well you have spoken on behalf of your heart this day! I bow deeply in gratitude clad retreat , for your splashed essence upon parchment, this day etched.
Warmly,
Rodney Evan Bohen
Reviewed by Hooves Of Fire 12/14/2002
(((mi-moo))) This is so brilliant and yes I see the truth in this. Being a sponge is all caught up with trying to try.
This made me think of a short story by a Russian Author that I read in College. All my books are packed up or I'd try to find it - Gogol I think was the author. I love this and you my brave brave friend.
*Hugs*
Hoovsie or as Yem use to say, Hoovies
Reviewed by m j hollingshead 12/7/2002
interesting


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