What's in a name...
Name____Andrea
Gender___Unisex
Meaning__Manly
Origin____Greek
in my blog, you will find several poems by my mother, jacqui, and a few we wrote together (even though my brother is the real writer). she died in 2004, but 'lives on' here on my corner of myspace. continually teaching me, i am grateful to have her words with me and so much of her in me....
i am a plagiarist who paraphrases
the words play music of no tone.
I'm a dreamer, a healer, an idealist...
INFP
Idealists want to search for Self, to become themselves, to have a goal, a purpose in life, to be self-actualized, to be and become real, to be what they are meant to be and to have an identity which is uniquely theirs, to become self-actualized into a perfect whole and to have an identity which is perfectly unique, to have meaning, to have their significance appreciated, or at the very least, recognized as existing, to have integrity, that is unity, with no facade, no mask, no pretense, no sham, no playing of roles, to be genuine, to communicate authentically, to be in harmony with the inner experiences of self, to avoid a life of bad faith, to live a life of significance, making a difference in the world, to experience life as a drama, to be sensitive to the subtle gestures and metaphoric behavior in relationships, to help others become kinder, warmer, and more loving human beings, to reform the world, to romanticize their experiences, their lives, and the experiences and lives of others (Keirsey, 1984, pp. 57-66; cf., Heineman (NF))
more info at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Myers-Briggs_Type_Indicator
I am you
Man half woman
Woman half man
And the two intertwined
in each of us androgynous
the limbs of one
around the limbs of the Other
clasping
my breast a vestigial remain
of yours
the heart a bivalve gasping
in a sea cave
(sound of sea waves lapping)
semen sea foam blown
into wombs of caves
thrown up
out of the body of being
out of the sea's mouth singing
(silent seabirds winging over)
And the sea incarnadine
As Saint Matthew's Passion
sung by a blind man
comes over the Sunday morning radio
And I am alone here
but if there were two of us
I would say
There is only one here
in the end as in the beginning
one body breating
one body singing
And the body is us
the body is our selves
and I am you
Lawrence Ferlinghetti
addiction is a bitch
