I... This has been an odd entry to try to write. I've been trying this one for the better part of a week now I guess.
I feel equal parts lost, found, insane, and like a complete jackass. Because of the way my head works, I can't even say much about it really. I... found something. A treasure. An amazing and wonderful exotic treasure. However, I found it Post Mortem. Years too late. There's not even anything there, only words. But what am I? Only words as well.
I found a collection of poetry... Written by a Dead Girl.
After she died (I do not know the details, she was in her 20s from what I can gather, and had a 'tragedy') her friends made a memorial site and put up a lot of her work. English is not their first language, so some of the details are sketchy. She was a very good writer. I identified deeply with a lot of what she had to say, a lot of what she was feeling. That kind of synergy that makes you tingle and feel electricity all the way down to your very cells and makes whatever passes for a soul tingle and writhe. That doesn't happen to me very often.
Even her stuff that wasn't super emotional, or didn't resonate with me like God tonguing your skull sockets was still very well written. I don't think that often about modern poets / poetry. Most styles popular these days do not suit me.
Here she is, dead and gone. I did not know her. I will never know her. I searched the net as best I could, and could not find out much more about her at all. Well, really, not anything more. I have her name, her date of death, and a small bit of info about her life in a country I will never visit. I will never see a picture of her. But... somehow, she's very important to me.
It's all so stupid and romantic and.... completely retarded but I can't help it. Can someone this distant to you in every sense of the word actually change anything for you? Can they break your heart?
I wonder if she had known how much her words could affect another person, if her 'tragedy' could have been avoided? (No, there was absolutely nothing to support any notion of her being a suicide, but usually when that's the case, they don't say. I mean you'll see a memorial like "Sally died of cancer" or "Lucy was killed in an auto accident" but usually when they just say "tragedy" well, it means something, you know?)
I've been wanting to... NEEDING to type about this for days and days now, it's been driving me crazy, but I don't even really know what to say, you know? I wonder how many people have ever felt that about my words... If anyone ever has. I wonder how many people have found solace in the pages of this blog, or have felt a little less alone. I wonder if I've touched any lives. I wonder if once I meet my end, if anyone will come here and say "Goddamn, I wish I would have had an opportunity to talk with Branden before his cancer/stabbing/car-crash/suicide/labotomy/starvation/industrial-accident/crucifixion/death-of-old-age/summons-home, because this shit really means something to me, and as long as someone is around to communicate these things, then each of us can be less alone while we struggle on the outside."
I tracked down an email for one of her friends who seemed to be the ringleader of posting her stuff, and it got returned because the email adr is no good any more. It's all a dead end, which is somehow even more poetic and romantically fitting.
I'll pre-emptively answer a couple of questions, and make a point clear.
I found her because sometimes I'll get words stuck in my head. When it happens, I'll google them in quotations. For example, search for the phrase "poise and grace gone wrong" you get me. That is a string of words I got stuck in my head many long years ago. It's become my flagship. My head swirls with words and colours and arrangements of text and verse. I don't always know where it comes from, so sometimes I have to look and see. Usually I get nothing because it comes from inside my head. Sometimes I find out it's a small piece of The Bible or Shakespeare or Baudelaire or Milton that got left in my head and twisted into a new creature. I was searching some brain text, and they were my words, I had heard them from no other. The only return was the site... with HER words.
We made the same words, worlds apart, years apart, never knowing.
That has never happened before, so I started looking into her words. That's how I ended up here.
That answers how I found her, and how it started.
The biggest question you'll all want to ask is "Link?"
"What is the site? Who is it? We want to see!"
My answer is: "No."
I am not willing to share. Not now, maybe not ever.
I can not explain why, I don't even know why. Maybe I'm just not ready to let go yet. Maybe it's MY secret, and you can get your own I don't know. But I'm not telling, so don't ask. Not here, not via email or IM, not in person. It's mine. I'm sorry, but at the same time, I'm not sorry at all.
This post is getting so long that it's gonna get the TLDR already. I could write four times this and still be swirling.
So, for now, I'll go.
Maybe Angels are where we find them, even inside of our Demons, and I hope that whatever she found, she's resting well.