Looking back…was I tragic, was I confused, or was I simply me being me and I will be me again tomorrow.
May 27, 2005
He sits at the edge of her dreams
The man unresolved
Some kind of demon that haunts that small place where wakefulness meets sleep
His forked tongue tastes the air around her
His catlike eyes haunt her soul to claim her heart…
He sits at the edge of her dreams
The man unresolved
But lightness is there too.
Lightness saves her by holding her head to her breast
She saves her through some kind of love that has survived ages
She sits at the edge of her dreams
The woman complete
Some kind of lightness that protects that small place where wakefulness meets sleep.
If I could win at the die, I’m sure I’d play more often. If I really cared, I’m sure I would show you how much I feel. But for now the rain is warm in my heart, and I’ve never feared starting as much as I fear you at times. Please father forgive me for I have sinned…it has been two years since my last confession.
He asks me “God…what haven’t you done?” like so many people here, and my instant reaction is to frown. What haven’t I done? Goodness! All the things that I haven’t done! I haven’t drunk hot tea and watched the sun rise from my boat that is harbored off the coast of England. I have never ridden a horse in the open plains as a storm is brewing. I haven’t made a stained-glass window. I haven’t lived and worked in a foreign country. I don’t know how to play the violin. Visions of the coast of Grease fill me and intoxicate my senses. At times I thought that I was simply running away when I left where I was, but I would beg to say that I running to something. A ‘free spirit’ they call me, a Bohemian they say, but I call myself an adventurer, a lover, a writer, and scientist. People fascinate me, why they do what they do when they do it. Are they simply a brilliant machine? Some would say yes and I would say that some of them are machines and some of them are in full realization that they are a machine with the potential and possibility of so much more.
When it comes down to it, all I know is that instant coffee tasted good in Thailand, getting burnt by the sun never fazed me in Hawaii, and sitting still for hours never bothered me when I was sitting by the ocean.
June 20, 2005
Freddie Mercury always knows what I’m feelin.’ I feel like at times I’m in “Find me somebody to love” and at other times I’m in a bizarre mix of “Bohemian Rhapsody” and “Take Me Home tonight.” The distant call of the train slowly draws me back to this dream that seems to be the present moment and wonder. I wonder why I’m here anyway sometimes because I suppose I’m a bit strange and maybe even like that water pitcher among a sea of pitchers that just doesn’t look quite the same. I suppose that I compliment this world but I still wonder if I’m here to help it or to simply hold water.
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