the ages where ~you~ insist on reading the bedtime story now because you do it right, even if you cant pronounce all the words, your madeup words are more accurate actually, closer to the word inventor's intent
Discussion
where you are being invited to a tea party and there are mud pies, too, (the teacups are invisible) and i asked which one you wanted and you said the strawberry one and that is the second mudpie from the left and you should have known that, they do not all look the same, the strawberry one has a fern and more leaves
few things hit like a withering look from a toddler
"you are doing participation mystique inside my imagination with me wrong"
"~how~ are you missing the vision"
"the mood board was in an email"
there is no distinction between inner and outer. no boundary constellating yet, no distinction. the outer all soaked up and in. one and the same. the assumption at this stage is it as readily goes the other way, too.
"you have to use your words to tell me what is wrong"
~why are we playing at this artifice mother? why are you being tedious. this pretense. you know what is wrong.~
"my baby, sometimes being in sync is not telepathic"
🤨 ~i think you lie. and i am a *grown* baby~
~thirty seven inches is *not* small~
anyway, mom
not who your mom is to you at thirteen, when for awhile you have known how she is like other moms your classmates have, and how she isnt
or mom when you are old enough to perceive her as an adult human woman with a whole life before you existed
this is mom before all distinction, separateness,
when only one person in the whole world is named mom and every other lady can be sorted that way
😌mom
🤨not mom
😌mom
🤨am i being kidnapped
😌mom
🤨dad?