| Adios, Xanga. Howdy, Blogspot! http://thoughtpractices.blogspot.com That's my new online residence. Read post 1 to see why. |
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| We are all made of dreams,
silently wishing ourselves into existence
and
adrift in the many crested mindsurf
we spend our briefly lucid moments
searching for the lighthouse lost
in the quiet chaos of decaying thought.
It is true, a city on a hill
cannot be hidden, but --
How am I to be a beacon for others
when I am hiding my head beneath the water,
drowning myself? Maybe
You can be my daily
deus ex machina, maybe then
I wouldn't feel the frightening pull
of my purpose being torn from
my soul. |
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| "Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest."
- Matthew 11:28 I want rest. I'm soul-weary. |
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| Last night I came to a seemingly obvious but paradigm shifting relevation:
I don't hate things; I hate that I love them.
And that, as Frost said, has made all the difference.
P.S. - Smoking a pipe on a cold night while listening to Peter Gabriel's "I Grieve" evokes odd thoughts and meandering emotions. |
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| I need someone who knows someone who has access to Girl Scout cookies. Cuz I seriously need some Tagalongs.
As soon as possible. |
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