"A poet can't write poetry all the time. So when he isn't writing, there are various other things he can do: dissipation, or inventing theories about poetry, or writing his memoirs. It comes to about the same thing."

~Elizabeth Bishop

anyone lived in a pretty how town
e.e. cummings

anyone lived in a pretty how town
(with up so floating many bells down)
spring summer autumn winter
he sang his didn't he danced his did. 

women and men (both little and small)
cared for anyone not at all
they sowed their isn't they reaped their same
sun moon stars rain 

children guessed (but only a few
and down they forgot as up they grew
autumn winter spring summer)
that noone loved him more by more 

when by now and tree by leaf
she laughed his joy she cried his grief
bird by snow and stir by still
anyone's any was all to her 

someones married their everyones
laughed their cryings and did their dance
(sleep wake hope and then) they
said their nevers they slept their dream 

stars rain sun moon
(and only the snow can begin to explain
how children are apt to forget to remember
with up so floating many bells down) 

one day anyone died i guess
(and noone stooped to kiss his face)
busy folk buried them side by side
little by little and was by was 

all by all and deep by deep 
and more by more they dream their sleep 
noone and anyone earth by april 
wish by spirit and if by yes. 

women and men (both dong and ding)
summer autumn winter spring
reaped their sowing and went their came
sun moon stars rain 

The name of this journal, anyone’s any, comes from the e.e. cummings poem above, which means quite a lot to me. 

First of all, it’s the first poem I really fell in love with.  (You mean poetry doesn’t have to be boring and suck?)  Cummings had a profound influence on my own writing, and my decision to write and study poetry all started with this one poem.  From here, I discovered that not only did poetry not have to suck, it didn’t have to rhyme or sound archaic.  These days I can appreciate Browning and Yeats, but back then, it was writers like Eliot and Plath that really interested me, and to hell with the boring dead white guys. 

The poem also fits in with the idea of keeping this journal.  Of course, to understand that, you sort of have to understand the poem.  Here’s a brief explication:

The two main characters here are "noone" and "anyone".  They are specific people who (as the poem progresses) grow up, live, love and die. They also represent the universal human experience that the "women" and "men" are going through. 

In the meantime, the women and men care "not at all" about anyone and noone. They are "busy folk", absorbed in living their own lives. However, what they don’t stop to realize is that what noone and anyone are going through applies to them as well. Everyone is isolated except noone, anyone and (until they grow up) the children. It’s essentially a poem about self absorption. About losing our childlike capacity to connect with others. 

Now, how does this tie into my journal?  

We’re all anyone. We’re all noone. We’ve all been the forgetful children. We’re all, respectively, the women and men. We grow up, and down we forget. We live, we love and eventually, we die. 

But in reading people’s journals, and in letting others into our lives by writing our own, we’re not quite as isolated anymore. We see glimpses into other people’s lives-people we might never befriend, or speak to, or care to learn anything about. Ideally, it goes beyond being entertained. It is a way to know people beyond the superficiality of Beverly Hills plastic surgery or a wardrobe from Wal-Mart. Beyond the masks of profession, age, illness, gender, color, location, sensibility. 

We could be anyone. There are people out there a lot like you, and a lot like me. We often struggle against our own individual stereotypes and by letting people into our worlds, we break those stereotypes every day. We teach each other tolerance, I think, and open mindedness. 
Of course, we’re also noone. If we were to die tomorrow--if we and everyone we knew died tomorrow--it would be obvious that we’re really noone. People are waiting to fill in the gaps. It’s easy to be forgotten. It’s nice to leave some kind of legacy behind us--a footprint on the electronic sand. 

Reading online journals has helped me to be open to what other people have to say. I’ve learned a lot, just by being exposed to the cross section of humanity that is on display in these journals. Like most everything, it can be pretty banal. But can also be entertaining, inspirational and interesting. It can be anything. 

When you read this journal--when you read any journal--keep in mind that there are a lot of people with something to offer you. I’ve come to believe that you can learn something from pretty much anyone who crosses your path. 

I am anyone. 

This is my any.