my mothers journal from 1973
opening page : WHY MUST I ALWAYS FALL FOR CHICKEN SHITS ON EGO TRIPS ?
April 25, 1973
I love the sea but it doesn't make me less afraid of it, I love you, but I'm not always sure of what you are and how you feel. I'd like to crawl behind your eyes and see me the way you do or climb thru your mouth and sit on every word that comes up through your throat. Maybe I could be sure then. Maybe I could know as it is - I hide beneath your frown or worry when you laugh out loud always sure a storm is rising.
June 13, 1973
The intimacy of the sun among the flowers, bears reflection of human towers, the graceful sweeping, the reaching, groping toward and seeking. Are We Not A Bed Of Flowers ?
September 19, 1973
Funny the way my feet refuse to find the ground. Little pieces of stars keep clinging to the cobwebs. Funny to ride the sky from the other side. This cloud i'm dangling from, i hope it holds together. The moon is so close now i can almost see its laugh lines. I never thought i'd see the moon this close. Funny, it's not sad at all. All these nights i heard it sob out loud.
October 4, 1973
maybe someday our eyes will meet again and we'll run to each others arms or maybe someday our eyes will meet only to turn away.sometimes saying goodbye makes it harder to realize it is goodbye.
Trapped in a world of hypocrisy, noise heartache.
in reality
_ _ _ is it not hard to live - and love ?
staring at black papers and walls
_ seeking truth ( ? )
yet through an open window blow the breezes of life ever searching_ _ _and calling.
the freshness of an afternoon tempts me to leave this jungle of doubt.
to roam free in the spring light, love calls from the sky.
a sky as blue as your eyes.take my hand the way is clear.
*these were just a few of my favorite pages. Through her words i see romance in a different way.
April 25, 1973
I love the sea but it doesn't make me less afraid of it, I love you, but I'm not always sure of what you are and how you feel. I'd like to crawl behind your eyes and see me the way you do or climb thru your mouth and sit on every word that comes up through your throat. Maybe I could be sure then. Maybe I could know as it is - I hide beneath your frown or worry when you laugh out loud always sure a storm is rising.
June 13, 1973
The intimacy of the sun among the flowers, bears reflection of human towers, the graceful sweeping, the reaching, groping toward and seeking. Are We Not A Bed Of Flowers ?
September 19, 1973
Funny the way my feet refuse to find the ground. Little pieces of stars keep clinging to the cobwebs. Funny to ride the sky from the other side. This cloud i'm dangling from, i hope it holds together. The moon is so close now i can almost see its laugh lines. I never thought i'd see the moon this close. Funny, it's not sad at all. All these nights i heard it sob out loud.
October 4, 1973
maybe someday our eyes will meet again and we'll run to each others arms or maybe someday our eyes will meet only to turn away.sometimes saying goodbye makes it harder to realize it is goodbye.
Trapped in a world of hypocrisy, noise heartache.
in reality
_ _ _ is it not hard to live - and love ?
staring at black papers and walls
_ seeking truth ( ? )
yet through an open window blow the breezes of life ever searching_ _ _and calling.
the freshness of an afternoon tempts me to leave this jungle of doubt.
to roam free in the spring light, love calls from the sky.
a sky as blue as your eyes.take my hand the way is clear.
*these were just a few of my favorite pages. Through her words i see romance in a different way.