Despite her poem about the scribe, she posted a few days ago, she doesn’t have to post things on the web to leave her mark or show that for some reason she is still concerned about what I day or write.
GA – that outrageous blogger from hometown – alerted me to tracking who visits my website, even when they sometimes use VPN disguise technology, and her fingerprints have been all over my website recently – and I’m not completely sure as to why.
She has been looking most closely at those things I posted last year – some of which I even regret getting passed by cyber nanny, each pointing to a particularly painful moment.
No doubt, she is weighing her options as both her public life and private lift appear to have erupted into a series of apparently insurmountable obstacles – her bread and butter at work at risk due to the legal difficulties while at home she can’t be with the man she loves, a relationship that has somehow spilled over into the political. She seems to seek to restore order out of chaos and may not feel as connected personally or politically as she once was.
Why she would waste her time wandering through the smoldering landscape of my old poems remains a mystery – only partially answered by yesterday’s post which I believe is aimed at me.
Those hits on my website, however, do not give me any clue as to her actual thinking, only perhaps that she is lost and seeking answers, when in fact she wastes a Friday night pondering the past when she should be out and about club-hopping – sad testimony as to how lost she must really feel.
I have no clue to the actual dynamics, of who betrayed whom or what reason, except in the clues she has provided in her poems – the most mysterious of which referred to politics as well as love.
Has she been pushed out by the principle players?
I doubt she would allow that to happen considering her skill at being about to trade up at need, getting a new protector to keep her from harm.
But I suspect the failed romance and her ex-lover’s political stance may have unnerved her a little.
For as much as I have painted her as capable of playing the odds, I also truly believe she starts out each role as a true believer, more or less sincerely believing what she says – maybe even a little naive which allows her to be manipulated at first by players with no sense of ethics at all.
As that poem circa 2003 pointed out, she may have seen privileged people as arrogant, the ones who get into clubs ahead of everybody else, but she can get used to be one of them, and no doubt likes the idea of being on the inside.
Only maybe even she didn’t realize at first how there is no team players in games like this, only every man for him or herself.
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