When shall we three meet again
In thunder, lightning, or in rain?
[William Shakespeare, Macbeth]
08 March 2011
Heaven’s Eyes
Far out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the Western Spiral arm of the Galaxy lies a small unregarded yellow sun.
It’s been a long time. As I sat by the river that day I let the ripples wash away my memories of you. And all of the many yous there have been in my life. I’d really like to say that you are irreplaceable but I’d be lying. And now everything’s different.
The wheels of the bus go round and round. I’d love to be wrong about what I think I’m thinking. If I’m wrong, I win. Though, the truth is, I’m not sure it works that way.
There are so many stars now, that you it seems you can almost reach up and touch them. They are like little holes in the floor of the sky.
I did a lot of new things this past month. I went for a walk in the rain. I got soaked from head to toe. It did me a world of good. I am exploring what little this place has to offer.
"It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known."
[Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities]
This thing is sucking the life out of me. It’s left me with so many regrets, that I feel like I’m drowning in a whirlpool of misgivings. I need to get out of here. I need to put to right the many wrongs that I committed these past few years.
I started writing again. Not random blog posts but a story. The last thing of substance that I wrote was a play. I feel a certain sense of release when I see the pen flowing over paper. The lines forming. The words stringing out to form sentences which are a part of you.
I forgot to say something else and I couldn’t fit it in so I kept it all to myself.
It is a pleasure to burn.
CLAT is like a huge beacon and a cloud of darkness on the horizon. How can one thing be both? I wonder if I’m any good at what I’m doing? What is to become of me?
What if I’m something, something like you, something like a beast, something like a bird, something like an angel? Something like that. That’s what scares me the most.
It’s been a long time. As I sat by the river that day I let the ripples wash away my memories of you. And all of the many yous there have been in my life. I’d really like to say that you are irreplaceable but I’d be lying. And now everything’s different.
The wheels of the bus go round and round. I’d love to be wrong about what I think I’m thinking. If I’m wrong, I win. Though, the truth is, I’m not sure it works that way.
There are so many stars now, that you it seems you can almost reach up and touch them. They are like little holes in the floor of the sky.
I did a lot of new things this past month. I went for a walk in the rain. I got soaked from head to toe. It did me a world of good. I am exploring what little this place has to offer.
"It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known."
[Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities]
This thing is sucking the life out of me. It’s left me with so many regrets, that I feel like I’m drowning in a whirlpool of misgivings. I need to get out of here. I need to put to right the many wrongs that I committed these past few years.
I started writing again. Not random blog posts but a story. The last thing of substance that I wrote was a play. I feel a certain sense of release when I see the pen flowing over paper. The lines forming. The words stringing out to form sentences which are a part of you.
I forgot to say something else and I couldn’t fit it in so I kept it all to myself.
It is a pleasure to burn.
CLAT is like a huge beacon and a cloud of darkness on the horizon. How can one thing be both? I wonder if I’m any good at what I’m doing? What is to become of me?
What if I’m something, something like you, something like a beast, something like a bird, something like an angel? Something like that. That’s what scares me the most.
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