A taste of cheese Feb. 22, 2013
Still caught up on the whole pipe line photo thing and the opening
and closing and opening of her Facebook account to me.
Is this a provocation?
To be honest, it is not her old Facebook page she’s opened,
but one dedicated to her art, music and photography, which just happen to have a
photo spread the owner of my company wants me to get for our website.
Why would she come all the way down to my town just for a
whim?
Why did she post these photographs on a site I had access
to, unless she wanted me to see them?
Is it a taunt?
And why did the owner start pestering me about my getting
the photos only to have the very photos he wanted me to get posted on her Facebook
account?
If this is a taunt, why bother? Shouldn’t she be letting
sleeping dogs lie?
If this is all coincidence then it is one big mind-fuck of a
coincidence, suggesting that the universe may be conspiring against me.
She continues to post poems she must know I look at even
when it is clear she has not posted a poem in many months that even remotely
concern me.
Perhaps she still believes the myth that she’s spread about stalking
and is baiting the mouse trap with a particular flavor cheese she thinks will
attract me.
She alluded last September to me being clever and illusive,
when I have been neither, suggesting she believes what she believes and no amount
of evidence can convince her otherwise – so, i.e., she comes down to my town,
passing the office where I work, takes pictures I can’t take, shows them to my
owner, who wants me to take them, too, then posts them on an unsecured Facebook
page as if to say, “See what I got?”
True, I do follow her poetry, and I do look at her art. I
never stopped listening to her music. But these things are far different from
what she assumes I am doing.
If it is a trap, I’m not interested in the cheese she’s
offering, except when it comes to the pressure the owner puts on me.
The real question is: what comes next?
Maybe I need to be clever and illusive, just to survive. But
I have no intention of returning to the place where we were last summer.
That’s way too painful a price just for a taste of cheese.
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