Let's be famous to each other.

2010-02-01T11:34:00.000-05:00

Sometimes you're thinking too much to sleep properly or even meditate properly.
It's always an unpleasant state and it's one I found myself in tonight.
But still, by some miracle I found myself in a meditative state
and into some sort of sleep.
(If you could call it that.)

Tumbling every which way;
there was no up
nor any down,
but I was headed towards something.

And waves of color and light stretched out from everything that is
or was for that matter (or will be!)
They told me the story that I'll never be able to put into words;
it's the one that is very likely the only one that matters.

And at the beginning of all these prismatic waves
(The ones of all the things that is, or was, or will be for that matter)
There was god; if you can believe it.
The one that keeps the world in motion.

I asked why we were here
but god did not know.

I asked if we had a purpose
I asked if the universe is really real
I asked why there is suffering
I asked how my uncle is doing
I asked if human beings had free will
I asked what is at the bottom of the ocean

I asked all these questions, but god did not know the answers
god sighed with a sadness that only comes from possessing infinity
I knew I was upsetting god, but I couldn't help it
I was a bit upset myself.

So I asked god why it did not know, how it could consider itself god if it knew as little as I did; I asked what sort of god god was.

"Oh, but my dear", god fumbled with words, unsure of how to phrase it all,
"Did you really expect me to know more than you?
I know I have been around for a while, but I've been too busy to figure these sorts of things out.
But I am sorry to disappoint,
I am sorry I am not how you imagined me.
But I know one thing for certain, what I am and where I am,
(god seemed to think the two were one in the same)
All I am is the longing for purpose
not much more than that.
I'm just the space between your electrons
and old friends reunited
and the crashing of waves upon the beach
and the stories to be found in the scars on your body
or the stories to be found anywhere else, for that matter."

Still unsure of what to think of god but now I was shocked as well
I thanked god
and we went off our separate ways
(If you could call it that).

Whenever you are sad

2009-12-07T04:05:00.002-05:00

Think of all the miracles that brought you into existence

Luck is a particularly tricky kind of magic.

And there is no space in between anything.

Everything is holy as it flows into itself.

Doormats

2009-12-07T03:57:00.004-05:00

When the time to speak up has past we must stay seated,

staring uneasily at one another.

We cannot complain,

we must be happy enough.

It starts with a brushing of a single pair of hands,

though they do not belong to the same one person.

Muttered apologies, averted eyes but something felt so nice.

And soon we are all brushing hands, arms, knees against one another

and slowly we grow less bashful

and soon all our fingers are intertwined.

Leading a life of quiet desperation isn't so bad,

we find ways to be happy enough.

2009-12-07T03:55:00.001-05:00

My mind is simply flint and steel

When there is a spark

My body becomes the tinder

Screaming, whispering.

2009-12-07T03:44:00.002-05:00

I push the skin on my neck back and forth, the notches on my spine sway with the movement of my left hand.

Here in the dark I feel the pull and strain upon every muscle

The mass of hair upon my head feels different, more distinct

I marvel at the wide assortment of textures

to be found on my skin.

There is a special kind of holiness found in the secrets that our bodies keep from ourselves.

Purposes.

2009-11-18T14:08:00.003-05:00

I must admit, though I claim to be an agnostic, I can have atheistic tendancies.

We are thrown into life, purposlessly. It is up to us to create a purpose, even though it may be objectivly meaningless.

And I may have found mine. My whole life, through trials and joys, deaths and rebirths seems to have all lead up to this. This one moment, which is infinity.

I want to live to remind those around me of the beauty and wonder all around. Tell them, through word and actions that there is no such thing as hopelessness, that atleast we have that.

I know I am far from perfect at this, often I am quick to judgment and occasionaly I do feel hopeless.

But to find a small spark in a handful of others and to try to cultivate it, that is all that is worth anything. Reminding them of all of the universe's wonders reminds me as well. And there is no better feeling than that, to feel not only connected through existance, but through awareness of existance as well.

Because my life is not for nothing. Yours doesn't have to be either.

In one of the books I am reading, Joseph Mengle (among others) saved this girl's life. He told her her hair was beautiful, asked her how old she was, she was thirteen. She was tall for her age. He sent her and her mother to the right and told her that now she is sixteen. She never saw him again, but soon learned who he was. This does not excuse all the horrors he commited, this does not come close and I am no apologist. But there is a spark of humanity in everyone, no matter how hard we try to deny ourselves and others. The problems of the world, and of people are not really their problems, but the existance of such problems alongside their humanity.

What does it mean to be human?
I feel I'm coming close.

2009-11-11T13:46:00.001-05:00

I don't mind making mistakes.

But I mind not knowing whether or not I have made a mistake.

That is happening quite a lot lately.

May I have some closure, y'guyz?

On dying, on living.

2009-10-29T14:08:00.003-04:00

"It is a very mixed blessing to be brought back from the dead." -Kurt Vonnegut

Here's what's been happening, everything is dying and ending and it feels like it is happening all at once. Maybe it's simply the season for it. That may sound callous but trust me, it is not like that. But assorted happenings, words people have said or written to me and I, back to them, papers I have been writing, books I have been reading, all have me considering the unusual (though more common than we think) practice of living after partially dying, or after being so close to actual death.

I trust that you are all familiar with the term "ego death". A concept that has fascinated me, that I have spent the last 2 or 3 years of my life trying to attain. I have come close on a few occasions, but as I begin to dissolve, and as dividing lines between all I see go fuzzy my mind seems to go into a defensive mode and my 'self' reasserts itself. I know what I need to experience, I believe in it. But it is different from actually experiencing it. Unfortunately, I have not been able to find time to meditate for long stretches of time which is something I need to fix because meditation is my favorite thing, probably.

Ever since I passed out from being stung by a mostly-dead Portugese Man-O-War I feel my brain has never worked the way it is supposed to. Maybe that is an arbitrary turning point and it's more than likely the case that that just isn't true. Maybe my mind never worked right.

Once, a different time than being stung and much later, I was closer to death than I had ever been, or have been since. Looking in the mirror I did not recognize myself. I had over time become someone who I could not recognize or bear too look at. This stranger had an empty, pale, sagging face, around her eyes were dark purple circles, her eyes themselves were listless, yellow and bloodshot, her skin lacked any vibrancy or mark of the living. Until the day I die I will never forget seeing myself as an 'other', seeing myself, seeing that other die before my eyes.

I slept forever, on the other side there was a warm and soft nothingness.

But even when one sleeps forever, there is a time to wake up.

The bruises all over my body that I had gained eventually faded.

And since then I am always gaining new marks, new scrapes and bruises

Since then my body has never been free of wounds,

the fragility of the body, the strength the soul requires to make up for it.

When you die, then go on to live to tell the tale it is not something you will ever fully forget. Your death is always in one corner of you mind. One might say looming, but that gives off the wrong connotation.

"You have to die a few times before you can really live." -Charles Bukowski

When you yourself have been close to death, when your ego fades, or when a substantial part of you dies and you are there to watch, you know that there is nothing to fear. You can overcome death; you cannot live forever but you can live. To actually live is more powerful than to live forever.

Whenever we die, we should pick up the pieces, we put them back together different. Try to put them back together better.

Whenever anything dies their pieces, their matter, their energy is still a part of the universe as everything else takes the pieces of the dead thing. Everything else puts themselves back together. What use are the dead if they cannot fix the living?

But also

What use are we if we cannot fix ourselves?

I am different now, maybe even better in some ways. My temper and judgement take longer to come, I look at everything anew. More importantly, I look at everything. I am happy now, but I know that happiness is hard work. I recognize the world is complicated but I cannot help but oversimplify things most of the time.

The most complicated aspect of the universe: It is simple sometimes.

Once you see that everything means something while meaning nothing it is easier to just accept, to love boundlessly. You are as free as you want to be, but you may not even want to be very free at all because what is freedom without love, which kills freedom in every sense of the word.

I am bound to all of you because I love you.

I am bound to myself because I love myself.

I am bound to my moral standards because I love them.

I am bound to the universe because I love it.

And I accept death too. I know, in my heart that it is never the end. Because I am bound to the people I know, many of whom will live on after me (if only for a short while). Because I am bound to the universe, which will endure for longer than I can fathom. When you die and then live you recognize that death is nothing to be afraid of, you accept it and you do not fight it anymore. You do not push it out of your mind when it appears because it is a part of you and a part of the universe, both of which you should love.

I am bound to death because I love it.

I am bound to die because I love it.

I know this may be hard to read for many of you, hard to understand for others. I know those two sentences up there may upset every reflex you have, your mind might cringe, your heart might worry.

Death is painful for those left behind I know this and I know you all know this. But leaving someone is all in the mind, it is a product of how we see time, how we see space and how we see matter. We can see past these instinctive boundaries. We can hold onto everyone and everything and we are never left behind.

What is the dirt that is sitting between your toes? What is the wind that is whistling through your ears? What is the Ocean? What is love?

Here's what they all are: Reminders that the universe is, reminders that everything is, and has been, and will be, reminders that morbidity only exists sofar as we let it.

Leaves are falling, the grass will grow from them in the spring.

We will all die, most of use more than once. But to exist, and to love, is to be a part of something bigger and neverending. So we need not worry.

I love you all so much.

One a.m. (part two)

2009-10-25T22:04:00.005-04:00

Again I found myself a bit lonely in my bed

So I took you out of my head (Where I know you didn't belong)

And, once again, I put you next to me (Even though you don't belong there either)

"Did you ever get over your fear of dying?" you asked me

and I was taken aback by the question.

"Well..."

I spoke up, paused for a moment, continued.

"When I said that I seemed to be thinking of the body only

the body, despite how amazing and beautiful it is"

I started to slide my fingers into your belt

stopped because it wasn't right

craned my neck instead

kissed yours.

"It's going to die

it's going to degenerate

we know that much.

But we don't

know about our awareness

it is separate, I think.

By definition, unknowable.

We cannot say what happens to it

if it continues to

see

feel

want

have

long after the body ends.

It might be okay not to believe in

beginnings

or endings.

Maybe it's okay. I can't say but I'm allowed to believe."

You laughed

it was low and quiet. Nervous and maybe a little bit sad.

You took me into your chest

(I do like when you do that.)

Pressing your lips against my forehead gently

(Always gently, I like that too)

you said I was beautiful

for once I believed you.

Then you were gone

and all is beautiful.

It's too cold.

2009-10-18T18:31:00.003-04:00

Oh but what's to be done in a world so undone.

You cannot tie knots as quickly as the knots unravel.

As the impersonal mechanisms of the world start taking you under and you know not who you are. Why does this always happen?

...Or, why do we always let it happen? as the line between fate and personal responsibility unravels and splinters.

Can you suffocate from having too much air?

Oh but I wrap myself up to stay warm. No one else will do it for me.

World's best apple cider.

2009-10-14T22:07:00.004-04:00

Nature slips in through the cracks of society.

As an abandoned factory is slowly overcome with ivy, spiders and bird's nests.

The world knows more than we do.

It can endure.

We cannot destroy the earth, only ourselves.

We cannot save the earth only each other.

We cannot endure alone.

No floor, just the sound of the river passing through.

No ceiling, but the cloudless blue sky.

I love it all.

2009-10-14T22:06:00.003-04:00

Here's how it is:

"We are made of matter."

"All matter is merely energy condensed to a slow vibration."

"Energy can be changed from one form to another, but it cannot be created or destroyed. The total amount of energy and matter in the Universe remains constant, merely changing from one form to another."

"Entropy is increasing constantly."

"It's okay."

Long weekend.

2009-10-11T18:26:00.002-04:00

We were so foolish to believe we knew what we wanted while we were still living. Truth is we wanted everything but we would settle for something. And it's depressing how few people open their third eye during their life time, but it's a downright damned shame that even fewer open their hearts.

And oh how every moment matters so much.

A dead bridge was given new life as the scrawling and marking meshed into one.

The communal nature of the world.
Let's take it back.

30 degrees and I am shivering not because of the chill of the air but because of the warmth of your body.

Driving over bridges are leaps of faith of sorts. Technology vs nature, as I read thick well-worn paperbacks that are often overly self-concious. They are testaments to the human desire to create something greater and more lasting than oneself, both in their existance, and often in their theme.

This too shall pass.

Yes sir.

2009-10-08T23:29:00.002-04:00

"I'm glad mushrooms are against the law, because I took them one time, and you know what happened to me? I laid in a field of green grass for four hours going, "My God! I love everything." Yeah, now if that isn't a hazard to our country … how are we gonna keep building nuclear weapons, you know what I mean? What's gonna happen to the arms industry when we realize that we're all one?!"

BILL HICKS KNOWS WHATS UP.

2009-10-07T22:18:00.000-04:00

Riding the infinite moment

as the wind blows the leaves and also my hair around.

Accepting the absurdity of everything existing at once

sometimes I feel like I'm growing up.

Reminders

2009-10-06T02:40:00.001-04:00

"I wish I was an earthworm"

"But then you'd never seen the sun!"

"yeah but I'd aerate soilz."

"yes, but you were made a human and you can't very well change that now, so you might as well make the best of it!"

Sometimes we forget something until we say it.

Considering going to sleep.

2009-10-05T02:13:00.004-04:00

But oh how good it feels to be at this point.

Where everything is wrong. And that just... feels right.

It's never too late

to try to be sincere.

"Writers are always selling everyone out."

But in my transgressions is an apology,

quiet and mumbled, I'm sorry I have to do this

as words rise up and make my bones ache,

I can't help it that some of the words are meant for you,

Hurting your autonomy to protect myself.

I hope you understand.

But you understand less than you let on

I am walking towards the orange lights on the far side of the field

I can't see any stars, but the moon is so low and close and round.

"After all, it is you and I who are perfect, not the next world"

I've always loved the moon most of all.

Tonight shadows seem wide and loose, aching to be cut free

and the light plays tricks on us

and we, on the light.

Public Service Announcements

2009-10-02T01:28:00.005-04:00

-When you throw your television from the window

please make sure not to hit anyone with it.

It makes twice the mess.

-What have YOU done with your free will today?

-The universe is infinite and also it's constantly expanding

Isn't that amazing?

Best of all, even with these odds, you'll still probably find your car keys.

-Go outside and count the petals on the prettiest flower you can find.

or don't.

But at least go outside, it's nice out!

-Try to make someone's day

It's not as hard as you think

You can make mine just by trying.

-If you want to do it.

And you're not going to hurt anyone

Why don't you just do it.

-If you can't find beauty, why don't you just create some?

Scars and stars.

2009-09-29T22:54:00.003-04:00

Today a doctor drew a big circle on my foot, the perimeter of this crazy inflammation from a bug bite.

Then, sitting in my room, the pens came out as I labeled everything I could find on myself. I was all circles and arrows.

"Freckle"

"This scar is from a salad spinner"

"Kiss me, I'm Irish"

"Shoulder"

"Bug bite"

The ink sunk into my flesh as my body became a map of my body.

I continue to miss you in all the wrong ways.

And never learn my lessons.

Easier said than done, your holiness the 14th Dalai Lama.

2009-09-28T11:33:00.001-04:00

"Find hope in the darkest of days, and focus in the brightest. Do not judge the universe. "

Interludes

2009-09-27T18:10:00.002-04:00

Our lives are simply lists of moments we wish could last forever.

Everything else is just noise.

2009-09-26T23:24:00.005-04:00

I don't believe in the end of the world. I just can't, I guess.

But sometimes I wonder what would happen if we pretended, all the time, that the bombs were already in the air.

Maybe things would go too crazy, but I bet there would be a lot more love, a lot more earnest action and sincere words.

When your whole life flashes before your eyes, you realize that it wasn't that bad, you realize how thankful you should have been.

EDIT: NO, I've changed my mind. Trying to carry such a project out would just be too manipulative, and I cannot judge what life is for, what should be the nature of life. Obviously stress and lack of sleep turn me into Adrian Veidt. (If any of you do not know who I am talking about, I will gladly lend you some books)

I love you all. You are all so perfect, you made life a little bit better.

Thank you.

EDIT: That part still stands.

Vulnerable, lonely and a little cold at one am.

2009-09-26T20:45:00.003-04:00

Alone in my bed I pretended you were near to me, as I was grazing my fingers across your chest in a repetitive motion, soft and slow, like waves.

"I need to tell you a secret. But you can't tell anyone, scouts honor", I called out into the dark.

"I'm afraid of dying. I mean, I don't believe in much. I don't believe in beginnings and endings, I don't believe in the past or the future, I don't believe in heaven and earth. All I know is that life is, and that it is precious and holy. The thought of existing outside life, or just ceasing to exist, well I just don't know how to deal with it."

And you ran your hand through my hair

but you had no response.

Just needin' to put it all out there so maybe it'll all get outta my head...

2009-09-21T20:04:00.002-04:00

There was this night up in Burlington, I was at a friend's apartment. And we were all just sitting and chilling on their front steps, it started off as a decent night. But there was a bike propped up against the porch, so I borrowed it. Just riding down the street on a spring night, it was one of the most beautiful experiences of my life, every twist or bump on the sidewalk felt so right, the cold wind rang through my hair and through my bones as I went for blocks, occasionally noticing how the stars were out. For a moment, I had convinced myself that I was never going to turn around, take that bike to canada, or new hampshire, wherever these empty streets took me. Why are my favorite moments always associated with the idea of escaping into the unknown, even as I know I'm never going to go through with it. Am I that unhappy with my life? I haven't thought like that for a long time.

Maybe it's just the idea of possibility, you are presented with one question in the moment. And you get to choose. Free will made so concise and clear as it's just that one moment and that once choice and everything is under your control and within reach.

I have not not been cold for at least 48 hours now and I'm startin' to get sick of it.

I once heard that "An id is a terrible thing to waste."

...and y'know, the super-ego can be overrated. Trips us up, makes us overanalyze what's only natural. I think I need a bit more id in my life.

Because, y'know, this life ain't for nothing. Except it kinda is.

There are some trees near the library on campus, I tried climbing them today. People looked at me funny. People do not climb trees or lie on hills watching clouds around these parts apparently. It's honestly really upsetting.

I always seem to wake up with new cuts and bruises for years now, just about every day and I have scarcly an idea where they come from. To wit, John Updike: "If we keep utterly still we will suffer no wear and tear and will never die."

At least if I'm degenerating that means I'm living. Right?

Tick-tock.

2009-09-16T18:14:00.003-04:00

Time's starting to feel worn loose and comfortable

and the clouds are moving so smoothly and quickly, I can't help but to believe in progress.

We think of time, mostly unconciously, as a snowstorm. We catch individual snowflakes, individual moments (no one is identical to any other, as I'm sure you know) and say "This is mine" before it melts in our hand. But this is foolish of us. More like a river, you cannot claim any of it, it slips through your fingers, changing it's path ever so slightly.

And I am the textbook example of a 'young adult', I haven't even been an adult for a year now. And let me tell you, there's no such thing as hope or potential, only the illusion of such.

(Ruling us all is chance and luck and nothingness)

But if there's one thing I've learned, it's that sometimes illusions are enough.

And when the sun bursts through the clouds, doesn't it always catch you by surprise?

Keeping it all by my side.

2009-09-15T16:01:00.000-04:00

I have this terrible aliment,
called 'accidentally poetic'
Like a close friend who, for all their bluster and swagger, will tell you
that they're scared
in the early hours of the day.
I've had quite a few of those,
they keep me here and they keep me grounded.
I guess I wouldn't want it any other way.

And whenever I cannot drift off
I don't count sheep
I compose prose
And by morning my words have dissapated
But I'm holding onto these.

I made a new friend
we went out to the lake
and walked on the water
It was march and it was dark and the wind from the mountains rattled my bones
and set my roamin' spirit loose.
My future was endless
and it was all laid out before me
I could walk to other countries
other states
other lives.
He was afraid of drowning,
so we turned around.

Another friend, I used to think they had all the answers
So busy listening to what I thought they were saying
I didn't even know that they were broken.
That's what they were really saying, after all...

Someone else, and I was someone else too
we had a parking lot
we sat there when it was dark and cold and empty
the pavement stretched before us, it was endless.

Boats on sunny days,
Walking through city streets, more dangerous than we know
taking risks
jumping ship
roll the dice
take it all back.

So maybe nothing will ever be okay.
Though it's hard to say on days where the sun is shining and you're sitting in the middle of a sidewalk full of children's chalk drawings
Or whenever you make a new friend.

And I'm afraid to die
because I haven't done enough.
I'll never do enough.
Because I'm just
something that's broken
and you can't expect a whole lot from somthing broken.

But just being around to watch the universe happen
well if that isn't something, I can't tell you what is.

And I want to keep it all safe,
but it slips through my fingers
and time passes
and there's no such thing as a fair trial.

Around the grave they say,
"In the midst of life, we are in death"

"In the midst of death, we are in life."
Something we all need to remind ourselves.

On a secret hill, partly under a tree.

2009-09-07T15:45:00.002-04:00

I found the perfect spot to watch clouds on campus.

And I have a love-hate relationship with those things too beautiful to put into words.

By which I mean everything.

But sometimes, things like this are enough.

2 am and I may or may not be loosing my mind.

2009-09-06T01:19:00.005-04:00

We've each built so much up around us we can't even see one another.

And it's terrifying.

Please, tear down the walls of your own solipsism, it's killing you and it's killing me. Are you really going to let everything you could ever have, hold, want, need and love pass you by?

Bear witness to the world.

Hold my hand.

We're in this together.

And we'll be furious and we'll be inconsolable and we'll be crying until the world is awash (not cleansed, but we can pretend) but most of all we'll be lost.

But we'll be something.

You must understand hate before you can learn to love. And the things you own can't teach you a thing.

I want to see the northern lights before I die, I don't care if their just junk and fire and radon. Because they're something. And they're beautiful, and at millions of years old, maybe they can teach me something.

I need to view the world a new. It needs to be brighter, it needs to be more.

To wit: The fields of space and time must intersect at an infinite number of points to allow everything to happen.

I refuse to give up my obsession with free will. Contemplating it is painful, but the alternative is so much worse.

In your very veins and muscles, all the contradictions of the world quietly crash and converge and it couldn't be more commonplace or more extraordinary. What is right and what is wrong meet and co-mingle in the space between the quarks of the neutrons of the atoms that make up your cells. You yourself are the ultimate truth and you are mostly grey and about 70% water, and you can choose to turn that chaos and that grey into love. You can make the ground disipear, you can rise above it.

I can't sleep because I'm running out of time. When no wind comes to steer you to shore can you find it yourself? What about lighthouses?

My metaphors always get out of hand far too quickly.

We could die for our beliefs, we could live forever. But we're probably wrong. I've seen the truth, maybe not all of it, but bits and pieces, and one things for sure, it ain't worth dying for. Nothing's worth dying for so why do we insist on dying?

Insomnia's getting to me.

Here's the thing about truth. (And life, and the world, and everything)

...What's it worth to yah?

Our values are only values when they're absolute. When you're willing to compromise then it wasn't a value anyways.

Shit what am I saying? I need a hug and I need some sleep...

Good people will die too soon and kids will make dumb choices and someone will find a way to profit from it all, and the universe never takes anything back, we're stuck moving through spacetime at a constant rate, but we can choose the direction.

Right?

I can bail or I can stay.

But I know what I'm going to decide before I decide.

What can I say, it's a value I hold dear, no matter the distress.

I'll be here, under the northern lights, watching the highs and lows of life, more attached and involved than I know is healthy. Please stop by, stick around. You need to see this before you die, it's amazing.

What I know.

2009-09-04T22:02:00.003-04:00

Three am
and this is my favorite
when our words are no longer fully formed
our thoughts travel through the short distance between us
and when they meet
instead of cracking and shattering
they just melt into one another

And you should worship the reasons you are here,
not any sort of creator looking down
But the fire
And the fields
And the infinite serendipities
And it's Stunning, those moments you can feel the magic of your own existence.

"An unwavering band of light"
This too shall pass.

Thank you.

2009-09-04T21:47:00.000-04:00

We have no choice
but to carry on with our vain strivings
praying for a current of wisdom and compassion
lest the undertow of selfishness and empty theory snatch us up.

When our salty tears taste almost sweet
then, we will know that we are ready.
and perhaps we will never be strong enough to lift up the whole world,
but one day, we will certainly be strong enough to lift up a child.
Just so lucky to be a witness.

We'll be gone so soon but we won't be able to stop
stop praising, stop loving, stop thanking
One by one our organs will give
They'll whisper "Thank you"
Tomorrow or twenty years later.
And when the dust that was once you and I whips through the trees
It will scream graditude, making the wind.
Every heartbeat gasps "I love you"
and even when we're nothing
we were once alive
and that's amazing.

And the story ends with me crying
And you were crying too
When we realized we pieces out of the same puzzle.
Broken apart,
We can never be put back together.

We are the dust we so carefully watch floating through the kitchen.

All we really have.

2009-04-28T00:47:00.001-04:00

Let's let this fear bring us together.

Next time you're scared tell someone, anyone. Walk up to a complete stranger and tell them why you're scared and ask them why they're scared.

When you're watching the news and your heart tries to run away from your body turn to the person you're with and tell them how much you love them. Or call someone.

It's okay to be afraid, but don't let it interfere with your ability to see what's beautiful all around you. Let it help you perceive more of it. Let it help you create it, as much as you can.

We need something to fight this fear with. This is all we really have.

No thinking for a little while.

2009-04-28T00:46:00.002-04:00

But it's hard to find friends at four in the morning
And I'm walking barefoot trough a field of broken glass and cigarette butts
And The only two people that will talk to me are Jeff Mangum and Anne Frank
And the place I'm living smells like a curry and also cinnamon
And I wish the stars were brighter.

Right now my love of modernism feels lie a sham.
I need salvation, or at least a resolution.

But it turns out that's all you can't buy at four in the morning, that and people to hangout with.

My mind is being so singular, so insistent. The birds are all singing now and it can't possibly be for me, they are singing for another barefoot meanderer who's being led by god knows what. Lonliness maybe? They're hoping for something to fill their mind with, their revelations are echoing and they feel empty and cold. But these birds aren't for me. I still feel empty.

Why do I keep checking my email at this time?

An overwhelming urge to not give up now, but no clue about what I'm working towards.

This is the opposite of life affirming. My body will fall into the ground if only I'd let it. Or float towards the sky.

Dreaming of a simpler time that never was.

Our shadows.

2009-04-28T00:46:00.001-04:00

I am melting into the earth:
never felt so whole

The day after the second time I burned to the ground, a pigeon crawled to me and handed me a map, I haven't the slightest idea what is on it to but I keep it close to my heart and it leads me to where I must go, where the treasure is to be found.

Don'tbreathout.Don'tbreath

out.Don'tbreathout.

Don't turn around.

You have to breath out.

You can't help but lose everything.

Take your next step.
Your left foot makes you larger.
Your right foot makes you smaller.

And the flowers will sing, but only if you're polite.
And stay quiet.
And listen.

I can't feel my foot anymore, I'm starting to doubt it's mine anyways, maybe it belongs to everyone, to everything.

My foot.
Not my foot.
Not mine.

The grinded glass makes our eyes sparkle.
I can't stay and this isn't for me
though I don't have the slightest idea what is for me
Don't wait. Not for me, only for the atom bomb.

When it comes your only regret was that you didn't pick flowers today,
you see their petals now in the spreading mushroom cloud
and everything is expanding and rushing towards you at once and you want to cry because of the flower, but you can't, everyone is watching, you have to be strong.

So you push the boy with the retainer down.

Then you're suddenly gone and there's just your shadow on the pavement.

He wraps your arms around you, warmth and comfort before you fade away.
Don't forget your shadow.

Bulldozers pile up bodies on a sunny day. There is a slight breeze, and it's not too humid.

Then the infrastructure collapses
what are you left with
what remains
cut beams and dust

dust

We are the dust we so closely follow under the kitchen lights, pound your pillow and watch all the world float before your eyes

We rip off our skin and join the rest of humankind

The glass in your hair makes it shine, but when I try to run my fingers through it your scalp starts to drip with the blood from my hands.
But I can't stop, the rush is too much and I even moan a little.
I was so embarrassed, you know how quiet I usually am.
I would have blushed, apologized even
I would have stepped back.
But I couldn't do what I would do,
I was too mesmerized by my life gathering around your temples before it glides over your cheekbones and eventually falls between our feet.
All I could do was moan as I rubbed my face in your hair and my blood
Our life is here.

Maybe I'm as sick as they say.

Feel that puddle gathering around your toes, that is me
See that basil in our window box,that it you.
I will grind you up with the olive oil that is my cousin in Tivoli and the garlic that is the migrant Mexican worker in southern California, I will spoon all of you over my gnocchi. Then you are all me, and I'm all of you.

Everything exists for this.
When this is okay you have to thank all the awful times, the grotesque that you push out of your head but it always comes back.
You have to thank it. Even if it's only good enough. Because you don't know anything else. So you're bound to be thankful, to be full of praise.

The atom is beautiful but there is so much danger that comes with it.

Let's admit it, our thoughts are mundane.
They've been around much longer and are bound to outlive us.

maybe that's beautiful, maybe it's not.
Maybe I don't even believe in it.

I filled this room with silverware,
The kind you bring out for Easter and the visitors you are trying to impress.
You need this promotion, your mortgage will be the death of you the wife keeps nagging you about trips to Key West and detergent and retainers for the kids. Ah, kids why'd you ever have them? What good have they done you? They best visit you when they stick you in a home, eh? Not that you'll remember.
Maybe you should visit your own mother, but what good is it if she won't even remember?

You watch her lined, crusty mouth move up and down, and unevenly. Why are her eyebrow hairs sticking out like that? Is eyebrow hair even allowed to be that long? These plants are dying, even though they're fake. Why does the rosary smell like gravy? Read her the same book, tell her the same lies, not that she remembers.

Your son is fine.
He's doing great, he visited last week.
I'm surprised you don't remember.

I feel your ghost dancing on my tongue
I'm afraid to open my mouth
I want you to stay with me
Don't float through the air with the rest of the dust

I'm human
I'm selfish
I need you here, and I need to keep you in your entirety.

I need the warmth that he gave you, that fuzzy aura
You look like a saint
Your eyes quietly suffer
So full of love
I need to feel that love, I need to breath it in.

I can never open my mouth, I need to keep you here, always. I hope you understand
I'm sure saints understand.

My blood it still on our feet,
Our soles will always be stained red from now on, I hope that's okay with you

I'll breath in as you breath out.
This will emphasize the fact that we are one in the same.

Then I'll breath out and it will be the last time, please breath in deeply.
It's my last hope in continuing this journey. I need to see it through to the end.
My shoulders will be full of nothing but warmth and love
I'm coating your hair, your feet stained with me.
And I'm in your mouth and your lungs.
I'll stay until you breath out.
Then I come back.

When you want to see me, look at the dust
and lick your feet
and breath in

I gnaw on basil
It masks the breath of Lazarus.

Breath out.

All I need to hear.

2009-04-28T00:45:00.000-04:00

Because the first beautiful day isn't just a beautiful day, it is a promise and it is the hope that that promise will be fulfilled.

When we feel the magic of our own existences
pulsing down to the grass between our toes

And all the sudden it's possible to find your own heartbeat everywhere around you
to live every possible life at once.

Our struggles were not in vain, they all had to be to lead up to this one day, so crystalline, as light bounces off your face towards infinity.

All I needed to hear.

2009-04-24T20:08:00.001-04:00

Disheveled assorted molskine musings. (DAMM?)

2009-04-13T14:07:00.002-04:00

Days like this and I wish I was brave enough-
To go us to a stranger and ask their life story.

You'll only ever be in control when you hand your power over to the sea.

Our parents wanted so much more for us...

The freedom for something to believe in,
the comfort so that it won't matter if we don't find anything.

Forever is a very long time, but we'll never be around for it. Never is a very long time as well.

Would you want to expect the end of the world?

I just read that the universe is 10^26 meters. ...so I guess I don't believe in infinity anymore.

What's yours is mine and mine is yours.

2009-04-02T20:42:00.001-04:00

"When I was a girl, my life was music that was always getting louder.
Everything moved me. A dog following a stranger. That made me feel so much. A calendar that showed the wrong month. I could have cried over it. I did. Where the smoke from a chimney ended. How an overturned bottle rested at the edge of a table.
I spent my life learning to feel less.
Every day I felt less.
Is that growing old? Or is it something worse?
You cannot protect yourself from sadness without protecting yourself from happiness."
-Everything is Illuminated

Our lives are constantly getting louder, we have to take in every new refrain and line as they all converge and swell together. We hope everything ties together at the end and everything starts coming together and fades in a way that we know is okay but it will probably be the case that the last few minutes are louder and more complicated then anything before them. And then it all ends and there's only a painful silence as everyone who's listening is left confused by the lack of revelations, so they choose lines to take as their own hoping something will eventually be resolved.

We just have to hope that no matter how loud the world gets, it never overwhelms us and we never start tuning it out. We're our only witnesses and I imagine that it's of the utmost importance to try our hardest to listen for as long as we can, to hear the chords that resonate all around us and take them in until we're crying and we don't know whether it's for all the beauty or all the pain.

I don't know much about music, I just know how it makes me feel.

Well all know the lives we want, but we know that we'll probably never have them and that all we can do is try to piece together something close to what we want with everything we have, overwhelmed as we all might be, we need to recognize that all our lives are built from the same time signatures, the same notes simply rearranged into endless possibilities that we might not be able to understand fully, but are in fact built from all the same themes.

I hope I never feel less, always more. And I wish the same for you. And I hope to hear some of your life and take parts of it as my own so that you don't have to bear it alone. And I hope you'll do the same for me. And we will be so surrounded by the sounds of our live that we may have trouble hearing what each other is saying but we'll understand completely as everything swells together and it becomes hard to make out the individual notes.

Start being moved by everything because it all deserves our attention and it all deserves to be a part of everything. And I hope this makes sense to you, whoever you are and I hope we'll pass each other on the sidewalk some not-to-far-off day and you'll tell me about your everything. And I'll be so thankful.

2009-04-02T00:03:00.003-04:00

I've found I can only write well when I mean it. A bummer for my pipe dream of writing for a living, but a part of me is glad that it's only when it's really important and when it really matters.

Hi my name is Taylor and I have the disposition of a children's librarian. But I am also probably completely insane.

2009-04-01T13:28:00.003-04:00

I was born in the same town as Timothy Leary, though many years later. "Turn on, tune in, drop out." I just wish I was better at disengaging myself from this constructed reality, but I've yet to find a way to do it without also becoming distant from the people I love. To become cold and trapped in the confines of my own mind, (The mind is large, but not large enough) I feel this would be counterproductive. And so I'll carry on. I just wish we could all live every possible life at once.

More JU

2009-03-28T01:00:00.010-04:00

"If we keep utterly still, we can suffer no wear and tear, and will never die."

Do I want to stay still?

I do, but only when I've moved enough to reach the point where I've accomplished the life I want. A tiny house in the woods with some. And we'll dance in a bleary-eyed state of madness, fueled by everything we use to expand our minds. We'll go barefoot and we will be the only ones around for miles. A mattress on the floor, a perpetually unmade bed surrounded by stacks of books leaning this way or that. We'll watch the dust float through the beams of light in our kitchen, and we will know that we are that dust and we will one day be drifting through your dining room or resting in your sheets. We'll fill our days desperately searching for something to believe in, but in our nights we will be looking at every star that there is to see. And in these nights we'll know what we believe in and we'll know we won't find it wherever we look.

We could stay still and be happy forever.

2009-03-24T22:07:00.001-04:00

"The best we can do is to try to do good (in which task I personally am lamentably deficient), and to observe the insanity of life with the inevitable bewilderment, but also with all the acuity we can muster. Witnessing it all is painful but necessary (don't ask me why, I just think it is)."-MOS

"We do survive every moment, except the last one. " -JU

2009-03-22T11:34:00.003-04:00

Things can be so awful but the stars are out and they are so beautiful. I guess that's enough sometimes. It's all we can ask for in these times which is all the time.

"We seek god now in flowers, in good deeds and the immensities of blue that surround the little scabs of land on which we draw our lives"

That makes me miss John Updike even more. When I read that so much rushes up and it's so much more than I could ever say.

I'll fall from your grace, but I'll never let go of your hand

2009-03-18T14:19:00.002-04:00

I never want anyone to have to feel hopeless. Impossible, I know, but I have no control over my wishes.

Singularities? (But not the gravitational kind for once.)

2009-03-17T10:11:00.003-04:00

I don't believe in past lives but I sort of do.
Collective consciousness means every life is or past life. Because we're a part of it all. We share the guilt and the pain but also the beauty and the joy. But that's what's hard. They exist together. But we exist together, so maybe we can try to make it all okay.

Sensory Hallucinations.

2009-02-24T00:13:00.003-05:00

I can't sleep enough these days it seems. My sleep is always between fits of hallucination: a pressing on my chest, water on my legs, a hand on my back, as images I recognize from the past or future flash before my eyes.

I can't wait to be home in a few weeks. Nothing current can be familiar. I want to sleep in an actual bed that's my own and I want hugs from Liam and Tammi and Emmie and Quinn and everyone else that will be there.

So much of what others imagine my happiness being seems to stem from just being in awe of existance. What is it going to be to not exist anymore. I doubt I can imagine it, but what I have now is spectacular. Realizing that we're all in together and that we're all broken and beautiful. Realizing that since that is the case the only proper response to most things is compassion and love and love and compassion. I often think of airplanes, how perfect and complete everything looks from so high up. That would be how some sort of god feels if it exists I think. That may not be the best thing for it. I want to be able to sleep, needless to say hopefully rather soon I'll be able to kinda-sorta write after I get certain personal messes under control. Until then, hopefully this is enough.

Hopefully everything is enough.

And perhaps there are no answers, only this.

2009-02-18T17:24:00.000-05:00

"The question that he frames in all but words
Is what to make of a diminished thing."
-R.Frost

Happiness comes and goes, as long as you remember not to lock the door.
But sadness is your favorite relative, grown sick in the guest room.
They never leave. And that's okay.

Lost in your own home.
Lost in my own metaphor.

"All war commanders are little men with broken hearts."

I carry, among other things, foolish notions of the past being any different, and that the future will be different too.
But then I keep reminding myself that there never seems to be a past or a future, rather a constant stream of the present.
Does this make me a pessimist?

Constant trade-offs, keeping us all awake at four in the morning, wondering where we went wrong.

Recognize the weight and reality and existence of everything around you, don't forget these things and carry them in wherever you keep such important things. That's the one thing I've learned.

The mind and the heart are awful copycats of each another. Force one to open and the other will follow suit by it's own accord.

All I can hope for is that a bit of this will make sense to someone else. Then I'll know I got it right.

I used to be told I'm manic depressive. Maybe they were right.

Life? Freedom? Love?

2009-02-17T02:54:00.000-05:00

I doubt it's a coincidence that the words we put most of our faith in are the ones that we can never quite define.

2009-02-16T22:54:00.000-05:00

“No one is free, even the birds are chained to the sky.”

-Bob Dylan.

...That helps.

ByeBye

2009-02-12T12:52:00.000-05:00

I am made of electrons and of dust but it's okay, you don't need to worry. I'm disintegrating but you are too so we'll just decay together if that's alright with you.

Because when it's all done I'd like the dust that used to be me to be near to the dust that used to be you.

My plan for getting better.

2009-02-10T13:19:00.002-05:00

Vegan grilled cheese with tomato soup
Orange juice
Tylenol
Tea
McSweeney's books
Hugs
Hugs
Hugs
Hugsplz

I'll write something real whenever I get better.

Good things

2009-02-10T09:17:00.004-05:00

Sweaters right out of the dryer
Orange and Purple Sunsets
Libraries
Leaving Notes in books that won't be checked out for years
Tea
Hugs
New England fall
Thoreau-Cat
Life Plans
Days when you can just stay in bed and do nothing but read
Large bodies of water
Nice people
In-season blackberries
Art pens
Being the only one awake
Footie-Pajamas
Mass sleepovers
Pancake Breakfasts
Kittens on Roombas
Large bodies of water
Heads-up pennies on the sidewalk
Chalk-drawings
Hopscotch
Swingsets
The New York Review of Books
String instruments
Goodwill shirts
The second formulation of the categorical imperative
Free-will
Pomegranates
Old typewriters
Baby Pandas
Knitted hats
Broken converse sneakers
Books involving Prague
Conscientious objection
Pacifism
The size of the Pacific Ocean
The size of all your atoms
Tempeh
Midday showers
Empty city streets
Ferris wheels
San Francisco
Scrabble
Soup
Bread
Archie Comics
Long drives to soft music
Not being sick.
...A work in progress, I'll finish it someday.

Scattered thoughts: January.

2009-02-03T20:39:00.001-05:00

How often do you have a thought that seems so perfect and personal only to later find out it is someone else's. And then our tastes change and it isn't even your thought anymore, you think the opposite. Everything is broken and then, without warning they fit together and there are no gaps. Then the next day atoms are scrambled and you are alone. You're confused because it's a cycle but it doesn't feel like one so it's also not a cycle and it makes everything seem fleeting as well as lasting. But it turns out that there is no sin in cycles that aren't cyclical. But I might think differently tomorrow.

If I ever wrote a book, it'd be on grey pages with grey type. But I probably will never write a book. I can imagine characters but nothing ever happens to them, they just meander through their world which is conveniently located in my noggin. Maybe I'm just inventing a new form of fiction called super-hyper-realism where nothing happens and no one is good or bad no matter how hard they try.

It's been cold but I don't mind. It makes me read books at a wonderful pace because I never want to leave my bed. But sometimes I have to.

Maybe we could all go up to a stranger and tell them all our secrets and let them tell us ours and give them a hug. We could start the best kind of revolution. Because it turns out that it's perfectly all right to be sad sometimes. Or maybe I mean lonely, I sometimes confuse those two words.

Wouldn't it be great to go live in a cabin with everyone you love? And then they can bring everyone that they love too. And everyone that they love is welcome as well. And so on. Then eventually the whole world will be in the cabin. Maybe the whole world is the cabin and that's why you should always be nice. Because if someone's in the cabin it means that someone loves them.

It turns out everyone's as lost as you are, they've just learned to hide it a bit better. If you're a nomad you're never lost and you're always home. Maybe that's why I want I hitch-hike across the country, because I won't know what lost is and I'll always be home. I feel more at home on long drives or deep in conversation than I probably ever will anywhere I sleep.

Forget the facts, but always remember the feeling.

Nothing is as bad or as good as you could ever imagine it. But it's real and that makes it both better and worse than you could ever imagine it.

Life

2009-01-14T01:19:00.001-05:00

Is trying to find people to be lost with. I think.
Because if you're lost with others, it's easy to pretend you're not lost at all.

Good Luck + Bad Luck

2009-01-13T15:12:00.000-05:00

Downtown was so cold, grey, damp and beautiful. For once I had the universe in my pocket.
And even when I sent it off to someone who needed it, the world was still in front of me. And that is enough.

Sleep.

2009-01-10T14:56:00.002-05:00

I dreamt of a world that kept beginning and kept ending and it was so small and so vast. The people I met all had the most beautiful, complex, heartbreaking stories to tell but they were afraid so they kept what they thought of and what they spoke of separate. The only way to read all their stories was to piece them together from the words that silently radiated from their skin. And no one ever spoke of all the beginnings and all the endings.

Kids.

2009-01-08T18:21:00.001-05:00

I grew up not believing in anything.
Now I'm feeling the pull of adulthood, worried that this optimism is just teenage rebellion.

2009-01-08T18:12:00.002-05:00

Maybe this is growing up. Realizing that all the people you depend on are just as full or doubt and disappointment as you are. We're all in this together apparently.

House party.

2008-12-17T22:13:00.002-05:00

I'd either be the best house-party host or the worst.
Here's how I'm planning it, I'll book a few shoegaze/folk bands.
And we will all drink tea and play scrabble.
Then as the bands play, instead of a mosh pit, there will be a cuddle pit.

We're driving to take a walk.

2008-12-17T19:10:00.003-05:00

The wind presses against my face, but your shoulder presses against mine so it's okay.
I take my boots off and I take my wool socks off and I roll my pants up and I wade in the freezing river as the water all rushes to pass by me. Everything is on it's way. I cannot stand there for long, it's too cold and I must be on my way.

In the spring we'll take long meanders and draw with chalk on the sidewalk, but this will do for now.

30 mph northeast winds.

2008-12-07T23:14:00.001-05:00

What am I left with and what have I given up for what I have? Dependability is a pretty word, but so is freedom.

I see everything coming but only after it's happened.

Disenchantment sounds nice when it's rolling off your tongue, but so cold when it's ringing through your ears.

Long winter. My toes are cold and I get dizzy when I stand up, not even the most heartbreakingly beautiful music I know can make it better because a song is something from someone's head and life is what you get when everything from everyone's head comes out or stays in and gets jumbled and lost and lonely which are three words that describe my state of mind.

I want hugs and I want people to snuggle with me on the carpet wearing Renee's footie pajamas. Preferably everyone I know in the one pair of pajamas. At one time. Please.

The wind from the lake brings everything to me then takes everything away too soon. I want things to stay the same but I want them to be better and I want to stop being so naive.

Idon'tknowIdon'tknowIdon'tknow.
I just want to be home. I just want everyone to be home.

2008-12-07T21:27:00.001-05:00

I'm really worried. It hurts to stand up. It hurts not to talk.
He'sokayHe'sokayHe'sokayHe'sokay.
Right?
Right.RightRight.
Right?

2008-12-07T11:30:00.000-05:00

The rain cleanses everything.
But when it's cold, the snow just buries it.

I'm happy for them, I'm happy for me.

2008-12-05T22:15:00.003-05:00

It makes me feel better to hang out with them. They are so good together. Sometime I forget that things like that happen. Two good people can be together, and be happy, and make everyone else happy. Things like that happen.

2008-12-03T22:55:00.001-05:00

Everything is so terrifying and everything is so beautiful.
Come be scared with me.

In this too-big world.

2008-12-01T21:18:00.002-05:00

I went to the lake, a spot where I'd be able to see the water and the mountains if the sun was out. On my way back I held out my hand and imagined it was in yours and I felt warmer.

"Accept lostness forever." It's something that I'm not very good at, but I'm trying.

2008-12-01T15:33:00.005-05:00

Seasons

2008-11-29T15:24:00.003-05:00

In winter the sky is grey and gold and periwinkle, and everyone wants to make sure that everyone else is warm enough.

I don't understand why no one else likes it, come with me to watch a grey and gold and periwinkle sunset. We'll make our home in the snow, and live on the reflected light of the moon and stars until our noses get red.

Then we'll go back inside and make sure that we're each warm enough.

2008-11-29T15:21:00.002-05:00

Days like this, people and thoughts seem so large and my words seem so small.

2008-11-29T15:14:00.000-05:00

Put your ear to the ground and you hear your own heartbeat.

On a hill.

2008-11-25T16:18:00.004-05:00

I wanted to show them all that I was better. That I was stronger and happier and more put together.

But all those familiar smiles and the familiar hugs, soon I was my familiar old self.

Each time I leave it'll hurt more and more.

Three pounds of flax.

2008-11-19T14:00:00.002-05:00

Sakadagami is such a beautiful idea.

I'll be back once more, I must. There are still loose ends to be tied up. Then when I leave, I'm leaving for good.

Much love!

2008-11-19T10:39:00.004-05:00

Scribblings in blue on the telephone pole made my day as the snow that was falling started to feel like it was all for me.

2008-11-18T23:15:00.001-05:00

We have to care because the world doesn't.

Aeroplane

2008-11-18T18:35:00.002-05:00

We look down at civilization. We are weightless inside the airplane. When we rejoin society we will arch out backs and crack our necks.

A thousand miles away.

Soon I will be home.

2008-11-17T13:17:00.005-05:00

I'll knock on your door. Please let me in. And if I forget to knock please forgive me because I have no doors and sometimes forget their function.

We'll sneak onto orchards, we'll find the late apples. We will wait for the day and greet it. An apple in one of my hands and your hand in the other.

"That man is the richest whose pleasures are the cheapest."

Late at night downtown.

2008-11-16T14:57:00.002-05:00

"Much love man, Jesus is my brother he's yours too. He taught me how important love is."

I'll miss him.

My day

2008-11-14T23:11:00.001-05:00

Organize. Declutter. Compartmentalize. Tuck away my dreams for when you get here. Sweep. Fold.

Bad influence

2008-11-14T18:21:00.002-05:00

It's best not to get too involved with me, you're too practical. Before you know it you'll be flying kites and pressing the snooze button too many times. You'll show up late to all those meetings, wearing socks that don't match. Honestly, I'm a bad influence.

Twentytwo hundred hours

2008-11-14T18:20:00.001-05:00

I was walking through the rough side of town the other night when a man stumbled out of the alley and threw his arms around me.
I hugged him back of course.

About a year ago

2008-11-14T10:24:00.001-05:00

There was a school shooting in a country on the other side of the world. It was in a high school and seven students and one teacher were killed. The shooter later killed himself as well.

A student sent a text message to her mother that read, "Whatever happens I want you to know that I will always love you."

New Life Plan.

2008-11-13T23:00:00.001-05:00

We could spend the day under the covers, eating cinnamon rolls in bed just like our mothers told us not to. Our in-boxes would fill as we passed the days in awe of every sunset.

Let's not pay our bills and let our hair grow out. Our split ends will become as tangled as our sheets.

2008-11-13T22:42:00.000-05:00

Today, try to mean everything you say.

What I'm thinking when I'm blushing and staring at my sneakers.

2008-11-09T11:24:00.002-05:00

All I want to do is wake up next to you.
I'd make us waffles and fruit salad for breakfast.
We'll sit on the floor and talk about books and photographs we've seen.
You could learn to love it, I promise.

How rarely you hear of amends and virtues in the news.

2008-11-08T16:47:00.001-05:00

I like this news story.

Adventures

2008-11-07T16:07:00.001-05:00

Walking home from the grocery store I found a lost dog.

That's where my adventure started.

Right?

2008-11-07T16:03:00.001-05:00

If you love someone that you can't have, take the parts of them that you love and keep them in yourself. That seems like the next best thing.

On hikes.

2008-11-07T16:02:00.001-05:00

We carved Pumpkins on November first. Running on three hours of sleep we took two small pumpkins off the front steps and took tiny carving saws to them, my knife slipping as I tried to get the angles on the mouth right.

I never got the angles right and wound up making a lopsided rectangle in place of a toothy grin But when we lit our pumpkins and stepped back to look at them she held me to fend off the cold We quietly laughed and I didn't even care about my pumpkin's mouth, just the comfort her arms gave me in the midst of the cold November midnight.

Hope and changeocity in the air.

2008-11-07T16:01:00.001-05:00

I often tire of hearing shouts and honks from cars as I walk about, but today was different. A boy called to me sitting in a car at a red light and he told me,
"You're beautiful."
"I know, everyone is. That's why we put up with the hard parts of life," I called back.
"I know." And he drove off.
I think this is what love feels like.