{"id":1092,"date":"2008-03-30T11:03:29","date_gmt":"2008-03-30T09:03:29","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/sholeh.calmstorm.net\/blog\/archives\/1092"},"modified":"2008-12-28T21:19:47","modified_gmt":"2008-12-29T03:19:47","slug":"there-are-moments","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/sholeh.calmstorm.net\/blog\/archives\/1092","title":{"rendered":"There are moments."},"content":{"rendered":"<p>She stood precariously, one foot on the rocks and one in the sea, bare feet with tips of red, gripping earth and sand.\u00c2\u00a0 She could only wait for so long, could only stand between worlds for as long as a flower took to fully bloom, or maybe as long as it takes for a child to learn the nature of laughter.\u00c2\u00a0<\/p>\n<p><center><a href=\"http:\/\/flickr.com\/photos\/sholeh\/2372590405\/\"><img decoding=\"async\" src=\"http:\/\/farm3.static.flickr.com\/2311\/2372590405_860515edb0_m.jpg\" \/><\/a><\/center>Those insistent pieces of her heart, scattered and pulling, tickling at her skin when she tried to forget, trying so hard to be complete again&#8230;there was a moment between worlds, and she hesitated.\u00c2\u00a0 Or&#8230;no&#8230;perhaps it was he who hesitated, and her shattered, completely whole spirit fell between moments.<\/p>\n<p>The point of falling is to be caught before hitting the ground, to be released before being trapped, and to be chased in order to fall again.\u00c2\u00a0 That is the supposed order of things.<\/p>\n<p><center><a href=\"http:\/\/flickr.com\/photos\/sholeh\/2372590413\/\"><img decoding=\"async\" src=\"http:\/\/farm4.static.flickr.com\/3024\/2372590413_1d26e1be3e_m.jpg\" \/><\/a><\/center>Clear words are binding, but she learned this <em>after<\/em> she was taught clarity.\u00c2\u00a0 So&#8230;all of these little strings tied to bigger strings, and the bigger strings disappeared into the distance behind her, and the beginning was lost.<\/p>\n<p>She turned around, took out a pair of scissors, and with calm and in complete silence, cut every single string.\u00c2\u00a0 The broken ends trailed after in delightful disarray, and she smiled in that moment.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>She stood precariously, one foot on the rocks and one in the sea, bare feet with tips of red, gripping earth and sand.\u00c2\u00a0 She could only wait for so long, could only stand between worlds for as long as a&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":"","_links_to":"","_links_to_target":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1092","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/sholeh.calmstorm.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1092","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/sholeh.calmstorm.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/sholeh.calmstorm.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sholeh.calmstorm.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sholeh.calmstorm.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1092"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/sholeh.calmstorm.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1092\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1350,"href":"https:\/\/sholeh.calmstorm.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1092\/revisions\/1350"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/sholeh.calmstorm.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1092"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sholeh.calmstorm.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1092"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/sholeh.calmstorm.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1092"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}