a boy and a girl passing
Category: Life

     Wind chimes and their dances sifting through the winds hanging from a green house on the corner of western and canvas, dusty, a tired deck from hundreds of feet pounding the stalks just within the long nights before, and the day sunshine flashing as it spins creating it's songs; a mother nature chime, songs sung for the passer bys, and the old fellow laying back in a deep brown chair worn from a hundred years and his age so close to that of his rest.  The smells of long dead flowers, cheap air freshners and the overpowering scents of age clustering about the house, around the dwelling for any other to taste for a moment as they glance inside, feet stomping readily, with a quick glance into this life. 
     The roads dry of travelers in factory constructed automobiles, the mists of exhales from the tale pipes quite missing as the trees inhale, and breath out oxygen with a floral scent settling with gravity into the grasses of the suburban houses, down the lines, down and down the lines, quiet places from the outsides and the weird vibes bouncing the walls on the insides.  The bursts of emotions of the human elements living and learning and dying and rising from the ashes. 
     The boy standing and listening, watching and tasting, as hes crying, yes hes laughing inside but an unknown pain tightens in his chest as a girl walks by, he doesn't know why, but he wants everything he dreams she is but could never possibly be, despite her outward beauty.  The shallow archives inside his mind painting her with colors she'd never wear and smiles he'd never receive and incredible flurries of unconditional love so impossibly strong and dual, going both ways, back and forth, and forming together reality itself might shatter in that space between them.  And the girl vanishes into the shadows under heavy oaks loaded with green leaves nearly spent, ready to fade yellow and orange and release to the ground.  The boy vanishes with her, his mind teetering and wrenching for a love he could never find, but love isn't the only thing on his mind.
     A color in the sky so deep blue, meshing with the intense sunlight of midday it could blind an eager onlooker staring deep into the sun for a few hours, just wondering for what it really is.  What it all really is. 
     Focuses bouncing from this place to that, ideas flashing by one by one some pondered, some accepted, some feared and hated, some bringing such clear and long past emotions dripping like flaming wax from the old candle sitting next to the elderly man in his favorite deep brown chair inside thinking as he stares at the faded portraits on the walls of times passed so long ago, when he was a kid, and the whole world was new, and now that everything's changed he waits as the world has passed him by, he waits to die. 
     Where is heaven he asks as that young woman passes by, fingering leaves of paper in her pockets, tense, nervous, overwhelmed by the simple forces of a single day in the life.  Why won't these fears go away?, she asks at the same moment as the old man wondering what heaven awaits him.  She fights the fears and insecurities and the unrefreshing boundaries of the lands surrounding, trying to remember back to times when every part of the nature and lay of the land made her heart burst with beauty and a supreme appreciation for the world in all it's colors.  Thoughts come to mind and pass, some making her tremble, some making her laugh, and a thought of good times passed, a strong nostalgia and tears well in her eyes, tears just for her and her day and that time and that moment in time, for no one else but her as the universal way of things watches and prepares and guides her steps and her intuition speaks to her in forming emotions boiling to the surface, diving down and touching all the insides of her soul, her body, her mind, she lets it all inside.  She lets the pains, worries, gleas, happy times, memories, passing jealousy, anger and blissful knowledge set in completely, overwhelming all her senses and she wonders in this overload of emotions just what that boy was thinking as he glanced into her green eyes as he passed.  Could the power of all those emotions, those deep deep feelings culminate into a love to the same degree with her and another, in the deepest possible way and no, never fade, never weaken and die, last forever in that real, real, real love.  Could it ever be that way? She asks herself, turning back hoping and wishing that boy she'd seen, so beautiful on the outside be as real and pure on the inside in all the ways shes ever wanted.. a truly glorious illusion of a love so intense it could be mutually forever real. 

12:41 AM - 3 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Walking in the City
Category: Parties and Nightlife

Downtown in the depths of night inspires me.  The lights glow and breathe.  They bring definition to the darkness, play off the streets, outline the buildings and shake pauses into my steps for fleeting contemplations.  They touch my mind in it's vulnerable spots and rise beautiful forming patterns, scented, in uniquely jaded outlines, just for me, and from me, up displacing from the foggy mists of the pond drops floating among the streets, touching in and out of places, people, lingering emotions and fate as it works it's machine dissolving us all, and we few watchers, walkers,  missing, seeing, missing, seeing, in awe or on the way or somewhere in between.

9:17 PM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

messengers of love

I don't let my fingers in too deep.  I try to breath as I listen to her soft voice whispering in my ears, the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and I feel something of old, something far too real passing by so quickly, a reminder of something, only a milisecond it lasts, but I can't breath, I can't speak, I just freeze up completely.  I jump back in speaking as if nothing had happened at all, in perfect motion making sure my voice is just as soft as hers, utilizing all my abilities.. but it's more natural than that.  It's more real, between us, minus the moments when I really let it hit me as it should, I'm holding it back.  I won't let it in yet, not yet, no..
The lights are low, no, it's black, just the glimmers of the flickering reset time on the vcr, wrapped up in covers on a big blue comfy couch laying together, her arms around my neck, my arms held against her body, feeling every slight movement as our legs interlock and she rubs her feet against mine massaging softly her eyes staring into mine.. watching intently, a piercing gaze.  I feel falling into a pool of thick bliss that I must hold myself above for fear of bursting out laughing in joy and ruining the moment completely.  So instead, I just stare back into those piercing eyes, piercing mine into hers, a physical reality of our mental connection. 
It feels too right, like it couldn't possibly be real.  I don't let my hands hold her too tight, but she persists, as I fear diving in she pulls me ever so softly I cannot refuse or resist.. it just happens.  I slide in with her and we are truly together on that couch watching eachother..  and I listen to her voice and the things she says makes me want to stop time and just listen to the feel of her voice and marvel in how it touches the emotions buried in my head.  What she says, yet how she says it, they become one and touch as if a messenger from love.  Her spoken words were messengers from love, love personality, soul and beauty of both.  The perfectly imperfect connection of two people, only these two people.
Bright lights, visible from space, dotted so rarely about the planet's countries.  The real people in a world of darkness..  The weird among the painfully normal, the sane among the crazy.  The different, not better, no just different.. like me, like her.  Hard to find, so hard to find. Two of the many lights in the shadows. 
We can never find eachother, it's so fuckin rare, it's so beautiful to come together.  I'll find them all, we'll ride together, to save the world and for now, just a hand full, a few, coming and going, yes, her.. Her and me.  Dream that dream, live it, make it real, and we'll live together forever, soul twins, fires burning together.  It's all need.  It's all I need.

7:09 PM - 5 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment

Swings
Category: Life

    I was feeling hard down and out of place that morning, awaking from some strange nightmare to the cool morning air blowing in short intervals into the open trunk of the car I slept in that night, parked in my driveway.  Kyrie was snoring, unwakable, and a terrible dream of heavy gray fogs and dark blue walls and quenching faces were twisting my guts into tight knots bleeding and sweating out my fears and insecurities.  They were built tall in the wake of the events this summer.
    So many strange awakenings I couldn't even explain.  Incredible changes I didn't think were possible.  It was all rolling through my head, though clouded, it seemed to tunnel focus from one thing to the next like an extremely confused computer scanning corrupted file after corrupted file.  No way to analyze.  This is unexplainable!  It can't be quantified, screamed my brain bouncing madly from one altering event to another.
    They are new eyes I watch with now, explaining my inability to physically or mentally focus them.  New eyes requiring nurturing before the new abilities to analyze and comprehend and further write those observations can be made.  I'm forcing it now.  Forcing my new eyes to learn to keenly observe situations, emotions, watch myself and watch the people around me, the environments surrounding.  It will all come.
    At first I thought I'd lost my ability to write in this midst of this mad transformation of self.  But I'll bring it back.  In fact I never lost it, I just got very confused.  Fuck, I'm confused right now.  Extremely, and I don't know exactly where I'm going but that's alright.
    Environment feeds the internal mind; examinations, thought-provoking responses and the endless words of others.  I was with a group for over a week and none of them were listeners but I.  They spoke, I listened.  They told hundreds and thousands of stories, and yes they were wonderful stories but GOD DAMN I'm a fuckin writer with dare I say a keen mind.  I have things to say, won't you fuckin listen?  Not you, them.  They wouldn't.  I had to cut them off to get anything in.. then they'd just cut me back, and I'd be where I started. 
    I feel like so much explanation is required for you people out there.  What the fuck is he going on about?  Transformation?  Progression?  Of what nature?  Where?  How?  When?  Regarding what? 
    These are questions I hope to answer when I gather the patience to put it all to paper.  That may be never.  Some things I just put off until they're forgotten and i move on . 
    But there is a grand story, and instead of giving a short version I want to write out the full version in maybe, five to ten pages.  Nothing less will do.  I won't be able to place you where I am now any other way. 
    Enough of that.
    That day Kyrie, Julie and I drove down to fern island where a german festival was taking place.  It appeared we had overestimated possible college student involvement.  The minimum age minus us and toddlers appeared to be 55+.  I felt dumb and out of place, not to mention among former conquers of my countries of origin: france, poland and austria.  Blonde hair, blue eyes.  Good thing for the frosts hm?  They might've stamped me with a golden star of david if I hadn't smooth talked the nazi guarding the bridge over the channel.
    "Oh yes sir, pure german blood.  Through and through.  No mutts on this island."
    There was some kind of spiritual awakening that day.  I think it happened a bit later on when we'd crossed back over the bridge into the real world.  Kyrie, Julie and I sat on some swings.  It was a bright sunny day, puffs of white clouds moved lazily across the skies as I stared up instinctively beginning to swing back and forth, back and forth.  The sunlight seemed to make the entire area glow.. the sands, the grasses and the looks on our faces. 
    I swung higher and higher clenching the chains with my hands with a big dumb smile on my face enjoying the mild rushes of wind and energy, adrenaline pumping through my veins.  I felt like a kid again. 
    I'd taken such a trip through life, but on somedays, this day, I could go back to feeling just like a kid again and lose myself in that mindset of being worryless and caught up in the energies inside my simple mind and the incredible awe of a world entirely new to me.  That was the awakening.  Becoming a child again.  And it felt right for those moments as I swung back and forth smiling a dumb smile as Kyrie and Julie watched somehow perplexed by my basic action.   
    Then a young boy, six or seven climbed onto the swing next to me smiling and saying I looked like his brother Samuel.  He told me about his brothers and his family between breaths as he tried to reach the speeds of swinging I had caught to.  I told him my name and our swinging syncs.  He was laughing and smiling, and I turned to look at him with the same happy smile on my face, laughing out loud as we swung together, two good ol' boys with the minds of children, in awe of everything and yearning for further understanding, maybe later, let's swing for now.  Let's just let it flow.  Let's just be.

6:41 AM - 4 Comments - 9 Kudos - Add Comment

the escape

    They're hell and we all know it, especially those who use often.  Many of my friends here I do believe.  Though you may not have the addictive qualities inherant in my personalty, destruction is still in your future, up, back, down, further somewhere on the side of the road waving his hand.  I was taught, death is always waiting.  Now.. it's coming.  Would it want to wait, when you can bring it running?  Theres a way out of that spike-pit.  A way around.  Through the wilderness.  Follow.

5:45 AM - 1 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

the internal struggle

    This is the war we're fighting.  There's nothing external left.  Ours is a lifelong battle with our own minds, outside and inner influences.  We fight urges, we comply with systems, we neglect our own well beings and we collapse to the whims of the physical body.  

3:48 AM - 3 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

I lost track

    I was sitting at Lakeside, a bar/restaurant through the channel beyond lake Minocqua sipping a diet coke staring out along the waters as the full moon rose above the treetops in the distance when it struck me.  I lost track.  When I was a kid I watched the moments pass with a great clarity.. but more, I watched where I was in time.  I looked back, I saw where I was.. I was ten, I'd been nine, I'd been six.  I'd watched the days passing.  The minutes.  I counted them.  I knew where I was in the progression of my life.  But things sped up.  I didn't watch as closely anymore.  The days went faster, the weeks and now the years.. they blast by in short blinks of the eye.  The daily schedule blurs it all away, everything becomes second nature.  A tunnel vision disease takes hold and only the moment is real.  The past is a dream now.  I'm not even certain it was really I who lived it.  What's scary is the moment is in many ways, as much the past dream I've lived.  The moment is a passing dream.

5:49 AM - 0 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

stayuplate

    I'm tired.  Just tired.  Tired of biting the fuckin bullet.  It's hard.  I'm tired of picking up the pieces.  Starting over.  I do it to myself, but so does everybody else in the fuckin world.  I just get caught.  Maybe that's ok.  Maybe your test is later, in a different way.  Maybe I just get what I need more directly than some others? 
    I'm just tired of running into fuckin walls.  And scaling them. 
    Making these thick and heavy changes is so bloody uncomfortable.  They say that's a good sign, but I'm tired.  Remaking myself is a process that will take months.  Victory in years.  It's all so hard. 
    But giving up hasn't occurred to me in the slightest.  I won't fold in on drugs and alcohol.  I despise them.  I despise what I'd become, in ways.  I like myself, always, but even better now.
    Dealing with shit is just exhausting.  There is no more numbing the emotions away.  No breaks to catch my breath.  No dives down into insanity.  That insanity appeals to me.  That unleashing that drugs provided.  It did.. now.  It seems dumb.  Petty, selfish.  Backwards steps. 
    I'm tired. 
   

6:03 AM - 9 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment

A New Direction
Category: Travel and Places

9:42 AM - 8 Comments - 12 Kudos - Add Comment

nooses and futilities
Category: Games

    There's a noose wrapped so gently around my neck, no it's not tight yet.  It lingers, the rope stinks like hot fungus into my nose.  It burns my skin.  Some would have me burned, and laugh as it happened, but this will not be the case.  Only cowards kick those when they are down.  This is elementary, and so is the fool who does so. 
    A good lashing of words does no good.  Beating up does no good.  It serves to harm only. 
    These are my minor problems. 
    You know what troubles me?  It's that almost any thought that I can have, any idea, anything I put pen to paper has almost certainly been touched upon by some writer of the millions of daily writers today and the millions of the past years, dead and gone.  How can I possibly hope to cover new ground?   Should I just be posting links to data that I find online?  Is that all that's left of my purpose to 'understand'? 
    I'm buddied up with a lot of lightworker myspaces and people who post continous informative pieces and articles and videos.  This wealth of data I cannot compare.  There is a wealth of data here.. if you look for it, perhaps..  But my latest project.. 47 pages on enlightenment.. is it futile?  Is there any such thing as enlightenment?  Why would anyone want it? 

11:14 PM - 5 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment

The 2008 Presidential Election Race and it’s Effect
Current mood: optimistic
Category: News and Politics

      The political actions of the people of the United States of America have truly surprised me over the months preceding and entering into the Democratic and Republican debates for the party nominations.

     Even further now to the chosen two: Senator Barack Obama and Senator John McCain. The political battles are just beginning. There is recent data indicating Barack Obama the Democratic nominee for president leads opposing GOP nominee John McCain by 15 points in recent polls.
      The races for the nominee positions of both parties was strangely devoid of scandal and heavy smearing this time around. Everything in these tense political battles, especially in the past Senate and House elections have been marked by scandals, smear campaigns and debates facing candidates with questions experienced politicians 'home run.' Of course there were a few incidents, but nothing matching the weird sex scandals of the congressional elections.
      Things are heating up, both candidates seem focused on winning over voters in skeptical and ambiguous groups. McCain may be looking to shore-up his Republican base, which after Bush's disastrous presidency seem more willing to listen to opposing viewpoints. Obama is leading in black voters and women; as well as in certain minority groups. He could be looking to win over independent voters at this point, who are split in support of the two candidates.
      The Democratic presidential nominee holds an early lead, but US elections are strange and disturbing roller coaster rides straight to the finish line. The winds of support shift madly for presidential candidates it seems.     

     Every day becomes a victory, a disaster or one of those odd interludes when things quiet down and the candidates lay unconscious in dark rooms. McCain and Obama spend those quiet days being fed through needles, minds doped with lithium to remove them from all notion of consciousness while Buddhists, Brazilian massage artists and evangelists pray over their comatose bodies. Obama even recently admitted McCain's choice in massage artist was "insightful and practical."
      McCain will, in most probability, attack Obama on the issue of experience. The question that will soon be answered is: Experience or change? Which will win votes? The Iraq war is another issue McCain may choose to bring to center light, and hope a nation once assaulted by terrorists on that fateful day in September of 2001 will cast votes for a candidate vowing to protect America from middle-eastern threats.
      The 'Hope for America' campaign worked by Representative Ron Paul during the party nominations was like nothing I'd seen in politics before. It was a politician who made sense. Paul's bid for the nomination truly quickened a lost dream I'd had for America for many years. The laws passed that invaded our freedoms, the corporate corruption and the wars had eroded my hope in the American dreams of freedom and justice for all.
       In the years of chaos perpetrated by the Bush administration it seemed people were getting more and more worried. They would speak to me about the terrible things happening in the world, the corporate monsters chewing up foreign countries for slave labor and clear cutting, and the countless dangerous laws that seemed to slide right through Congress. There seemed little hope, and the country supported Bush. We did nothing.
      The true actions of our government began reaching citizens through the internet and media. People were becoming aware slowly but surely. Soon the malcontents were nearly matching those still supporting the president. Still nothing happened, no action was taken. They were content in their ability to do nothing. It was an epidemic of apathy, of concerned citizens too busy and distracted by economic troubles, the television world and forty hour work weeks. A feeling of helplessness and fear stank the taverns, malls and homes in those days.
      Then I started hearing about a doctor running for the GOP nomination named Ron Paul. I started hearing about his morality, his stance on issues like big business, foreign policy and big government. Surfing the internet I watched a series of debates and was literally shocked by this man's straight forward logical nature.
      So many took it as such a huge offense for Paul to say the 9/11 attacks were blow-back from covert military operations perpetrated by the United States in the middle-east years ago. I recall Paul's words being twisted into an idea that he believed we as Americans had invited the 9/11 attacks.
Perhaps I'm missing something, but doesn't it make sense that those we attack and interfere with will find ways to strike back on us?
      If Iraq or some middle-eastern country armed Canadians and Mexicans to attack Americans, and armed us as well to create warefare; if a foreign country executed and replaced our president with a dictator, would we be upset? Oh yes we would. Would we carry out a cowardly attack with hijacked commercial airliners? No. We'd send much more potent missiles.     

      The kind that kill in great numbers. We would make our enemies suffer, because, as of Bush's administration, the United States has become a nation in the business of war and economic domination it seems.
      Ron Paul's fellow republican candidates put up better arguments at times, and the extreme issue stances Paul took on things like homeland security and the drug war made it impossible for him to make a solid run for the GOP nomination. But Ron Paul was the beginning. I was seeing that people were finding him, and they were finding something to believe in.         

     They believed in a better America. It overjoyed me to see such a rallying of political activity by younger people like myself. Ron Paul signs still dot a few of the yards here in central Wisconsin. I smile when I see them, reminded of the apathy Paul had cured in so many.
      Senator John McCain of Arizona won the Republican nomination in a landslide victory, despite the enthusiasm of Huckabee, Romney and Paul supporters. Though polls have shown McCain only noq holds about 60% of the Republican vote, his quick victory as the nominee could be a sign of a greater support for the GOP nominee in the country than polls have indicated. McCain offered few ideas of 'change' in the country however, and has had difficulty distancing himself from the lame duck president Bush.
      As I continued watching things develop I realized another candidate had captured the hearts and minds of many of the American people. A Senator from Illinois named Barack Obama. His slogan of "Change" and promises to pursue a course of action towards a better USA had grabbed the general public's full attention.
      In silence so many people had apposed the Iraq war. They saw the economy slipping. Gas prices were rising. Average Americans were working two and three jobs just to hold onto their homes.
     "Change" was a word that many Americans flocked to. And they believed Barack Obama would be the man to bring about whatever "change" the people were searching for. They are searching now. The promise of change has awoken a long sleeping mass within our country of young adults, average Americans, families and hibernating independents. They've stepped up to support their hero; but when election day comes will they show up to cast their votes? Will it be enough?
      Those that support the Republican party and the Iraq war may however prevail as they have done in the two previous presidential elections. Those of the mid-right in political view (McCain's strongest supporters) are an honorable and reliable bunch that are getting excited with their candidate, though perhaps not to the extent of Obama supporters. If McCain can quickly regain his Republican base, and win over white voters and independents (both groups are split down the middle in support for the two candidates) he could easily move into the lead and secure office through his stout determination to make things right in Iraq, and the simple fact of his extensive experience in world affairs that his contender seems to lack. Will the progressive republican candidate John McCain win over an America (as the ideal choice) to bring much needed stability, experience and strength in the White House?

The biggest question in my mind is if elected, will the victorious candidate remain true to the promises they'd made during the race?

3:31 AM - 2 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

abstraction in writing
Category: Writing and Poetry

If done like a carelessly knitted garment, if done with ambition itself in the voice, abstraction speaks in a variably near subliminally unique pattern; to the uniquely built human minds' it encounters. It's like a warbling bull-horn, a printer smeared page of text, a static-filled cell phone call; the meaning of the words is uncertain.. but the creativity in the readers mind starts churning. Short term and long term memories, hot memories, cold memories and most importantly the present mind set will affect the reader's inner idea of what is being said. With a willful suspension of disbelief a mind will absorb the abstract piece, read it line by line and identify similarities to their own life or current situations in the blurred ideas and meanings presented by the piece. The human nature sets in, to project a set of puzzle pieces and then place them together to form something entirely unpredictable to the writer irresponsible enough to send one on an inward cycle. The piece itself becomes more than a clarity to the writer alone; it becomes a window to the reader, for their foreign imagination stimulated by the piece to create a perception no less (and perhaps more) valid than the writer had ever intended. A collaboration between the writer and the reader forms, creating a hybrid truth between the words and the thoughts inexorably associated.

2:32 AM - 2 Comments - 3 Kudos - Add Comment

Notes on the Metaphysical Journey of progressive Disillusionment
Category: Religion and Philosophy

    I've wondered often, sometimes if I'd gone the wrong direction.  I've made poor decisions and with consequences, but stepping above that.. Looking inside and affirming a strong moral stop-gap measure to poor decisions won't seem to come meet me.
    I don't feel inclined to look so often, caught up in the evolvo-capitalism.  I read the many bulletin posts, I check up on websites, I read through Wikipedia.. but I can't seem to make it work inside.  Perhaps it is simple impatience, but I desire the desire to perform ambitiously in my acts.  It's coming..
    Some heavy load of darkness fell on myself and some of my closest friends just so recently.  Why?  Where did this dark wave come from?  Misfortunes, troubles, nothing major.. but I don't understand how to ride against it.  I feel falling into it, blind and dumb, with lot's of bad ideas and the intellect to make them happen with very little standing in my way.
    I've written weird stories, lots of them.. and some seem to come true.  Like I write out the future with a random accuracy, and dream tunnel visions of just a little less than I can see into that which has not occurred yet.  It's just little things.  Coincidences as most would say.  Just as this thought comes up, the lyrics in a song playing cover the situation completely.  A friend and I have the same thought, out of nowhere.  I meet a stranger in a café and she tells me something I absolutely needed to hear.  It seems we are synced together.  Are tighter nets formed in groups of friends?



    They mock in a way sometimes; the signs; at least by my ego's perception.  I think fate just likes to have fun, always changing, and if you have the right eyes you can see the terribly wonderful and strange ironies so ever-present. 

They make me smile. 

They make me cry. 

They make me look up to the sky and wonder for answers. 

    The numbers.. 1111, 2222, 3333, 4444, 5555.  Appearing at random on clocks, microwave clocks, unplugged clocks, broken clocks and clocks set wrong. 
    The way, if you want to look back with me...:   The way the events of our lives seem so real, they seem like they belong there.. They seem like blessings, no matter what light or dark fallacy might be attached.  I am so thankful for this path.  It's been such a fine journey already.  I've seen things that make words like 'beauty' shutter with meaning and intensity.  I've been through times that shaped who I am now.  So have you.  And we look back.. Doesn't it seem like no matter what transpired it was right?  Right for us?
    The voids in front of me and how I perceive them are so shaped by my experiences.  The things of my life, the things far behind me created this person I am now.  I love who I am, with all my flaws and I am so thankful for being allowed to make this epic journey.
    I need to remember so often the obstacles I pushed through, the strength I gathered in doing so.. The pride in gaining knowledge, strength.. Confidence.  It seems in my head and perhaps not yours, I cannot recall those strengths and those victories and integrate them into myself.  They are shattered memories..  I don't know how to make them part of me.  It may sound brash of me, but I feel I deserve my victories.  I feel I deserve strength and confidence.  But that's just me.. And perhaps I ask too much.



    All I know is this.. As I walk this journey through my life, and as I pass you ones connected to me, to be my friends, allies, to be my lovers, and to vanish when our paths depart, far in the future..  I believe I will find what I seek:

I will find truth. 

I will find inner-peace. 

I will find love. 

I will find the divine.

     The divine in me and the divine of the universe.

6:52 AM - 3 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

One Piece of Truth and it’s Journey away from Us
Category: Dreams and the Supernatural

    I knew, I felt it.  It was sitting in my hands.  Some sliver of truth glowing with it's own given aura, the awing in me passing to the awing of the glowing truth to seek it's family, some tree in some wood, branches of knowledge.  The sliver of golden luminescent light, grew white wings, far from opaque and floated away.
    I kept it as long as I could.  The memory alive of the bit of truth leaving so quickly.  Concentration failing.. just a few glimpses, memoirs and retrospections of something so foundation shaking it would have changed my entire world, my entire outlook, it would have changed who I am.. but the memory flew away, just like the truth leaving me thinking, thinking but truly grasping for what it had been and what it had grown within me.

11:47 PM - 0 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

after a night in jail

I was sitting on the steps at the courthouse just after I got released from the jail this morning.. all these thoughts running through my head, feeling terrible.. and this guy passed holding a bible and stopped and saw the look in my eyes and said 'god bless you'  and I burst into tears.

1:49 PM - 7 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment