One professor told us: the only thing you truly own is your name. Everything else can be changed by others, or even taken away from you. So live up to your name, he said. That's all you can do.

I am more than a name! And I will continue to become more.

She is homeschooled and very eccentric :) She is extremely friendly and outgoing. She gets along with all ages. 

I feel an affinity with her, though I don't feel as confident as her. I guess she's one of my role models. 

If I did not grieve when I felt it, my poetry would be greatly reduced. :) Like a seldom few others, a live against the ban.

I know that 'Stargirl' was a Jerry Spinelli novel, but we don't have a copy in our house anymore. What was Stargirl like, in the book? Why'd you name yourself after her?

Yes, and maybe we're focussing on the things that are subject to change, the things which are made all the better for change. 

You, Raven, are one of those rare people who has been unaffected up until then, and who will continue to be unaffected. That does not mean that you are not allowed to feel for it, or to grieve, though. 

I suppose it's often because identity is less solid than we would like to think, although that doesn't mean there's any less substance to it, only that the essence is harder to discern. With me, it's because my high school has banned free thinking.

I eagerly await the result of your visit with this wayward muse who is inspiration.

Why is that? 

Is there just something about finally feeling solid in yourself that makes the whole persona come crashing down? 

Thank you, dear friend, perhaps the realization that I have somehow lost my expression will lead to it's coming back. Inspiration is a wayward muse, after all, not terribly steadfast, but when it strikes, oh does it ever strike. 

Believe me, I've had the feeling before. After today, in fact, I feel like my identity is starting to break down, and I fear that my writing will suffer.

Well, I wish you soundness of mind and solidity of identity, as well as the return of your beautiful expression. :)

For the longest time, I was quite sure that I was absolutely solid in who I was. But I am a person of contradiction, and I am always changing. I don't know. Lately I've been feeling like I just can't write; I guess I have some sort of writer's block. The inspiration's there, the expression just isn't. And I guess that being able to write has been a big part of my identity for a very long time, so that confused me. 

I think it was just all in my head. It'll probably crop up again sometime, as these things generally do, but it will be easier to resolve then. 

Wow, instead of letting your emotion write the poem, your poem wrote your emotion. That is indeed fateful. 

Yeah, when you get older and send it to a real publishing company! 

Actually, I think you should try to use most of your poems as an inspiration for something bigger, after all, this is just a first step! 

Ah, I seem to have disregarded your last question. Let me answer it:

As long as what is said is true and is poetry, it's a simply wonderful encounter and I wouldn't change it for anything.

Today? I am at peace. The kind of peace when one is sitting outside on a lonely road knowing fully well that a gale will sweep over him, but he is not afraid of it.

I found the third stanza on a scrap of paper in my 'pensieve,' and I don't remember ever writing it. But I decided to write an entire poem so it wouldn't be so alone. At first, I thought I was going to have to feign dismay to write it, but when I thought of the first two lines, the sadness became real. The feeling (which must have been buried inside the third stanza) slowly and painfully possessed me through the second to last stanza. At that point, there was only myself and a dull, quiet ache inside of me. So the last five lines were not a choice, I simply had to write them, as certainly as one knows he has to die. Upon finishing, the air around me seemed thick with the irony of fate.

'Course he does. Or rather, he sits in the darkness sometimes, so some of the stuff is bound to find its way inside of him. But, like you said, it's about balance. "Light made substance by the shadows."  I often meditate in the darkness, because the world is 'simplified' to self and non-self. I also like to meditate with my cat, but that is neither here nor there.

I'm quite glad that you're feeling better. I'm equally glad that you didn't lose yourself and that you're not worried anymore. Why did you feel so, earlier?

Really? A novel? Perhaps I will follow up with that suggestion!

I'm so very grateful, Aderes.

I love the first stanza, It's so simply, intricately woven, tragic and tender. It speaks and feels of true heartache, the kind that I have only encountered in dreams. 

(What is it like to encounter someone who says too much?)

Ah, so the raven has darkness in him afterall. 

I don't know why, but there is something satisfying about darkness that seems to be lacking in light. it creates balance, I suppose. 

To answer your question, I am feeling better than I was earlier. I am not worried about losing myself. 

How are you feeling today? Or, better yet, how were you feeling when you wrote this poem?

You know, if you used this poem as an inspiration as a novel, I think it would be a fantastic book!

Great poem! Again, I'm a big fan of your poetry and you are a fantastic poet! :)