Post Script: Actually Post Script Lane is a little road which I pass on the way up the back streets from Rexhame Beach towards Humarock. I also pass Revere, and other streets so redolent of connectivity. I think we all do see these things, and sometimes we smile, because there are names that connect in diverse ways to our lives, in a very personal manner.
I have been writing, that the road we travel, by foot, by car, using all kinds of transport, has signs which do have import for us all. For example, Dead End, No Exit, Sharp Curve Ahead, and the most important of all, is surely Share The Road, which is my card carrying sign, and this definitely applies to the silence I received by the man of letters who has large parts of this ongoing story.
Maybe in life for us all, there is a time to speak up, to affirm what’s ours, and also the hurt we received along the road which has of course, many pot holes, and we’ve all experienced flat tires. I am tired of being positive, of presenting a false self to someone who continues to hurt me, in a most petulant self-involved way. I could not ask even a little question about my archive, without eliciting this, most childish response, “I will do this myself.” And yet it was rudeness, that sparked me to ask, why am I coming, what is expected, here. How hard IS that?
How very strange for someone, who has had such contact by way of my emails, in a most one sided way, by choice, to never express any interest, in all this time, about the meeting. “This is not a social hour”. What kind of response IS this?
Anyhow, here I am saying: when you are feeling oppressed in big and small ways, do not continue, for too long, to repress your authentic feelings. Do not let another person oppress you, for power and control, and for ego. It’s not right, and nothing is going to make this right. Do not cower. Do not be, a coward. Speak out!