elegance and eloquence
The desire for honest expression plants this yearning.
Happy days are spent in connection... with beautiful environment and friends. In Love.
Sad days dissolve into sheets, never cotton-enough. Wanting for softer, wanting for sleepness in the deepness.
Is it disconnection that births unrest? Would the ocean be an ocean without tides which ebb and flow, recede and grow..?
Could the moon shine for us, and water our plants in light, if it did not cycle from bright to dark?Would I be a constructive human if I did not some days wish to keep my eyes shut, and some days wish against rest?
The art on my wrist needs more color, more definition, and talent. I require another's ability and tools to put art into skin. I depend on another. I depends on lots of others. To grow watermelon for me, and to fix broken mechanics. To hinge my doors and keep the internet functioning.
A woman comes to visit who says she wishes to be without cell phones and modern commodities... to "simplify" she says would be ideal. She cannot stop downloading applications to her IPhone for a single day while visiting. She loves her obsession with the screen, and I am hardly much different. Is it simply a means of entertaining the senses? Why? What is the point of the dollar bill.? And why are cute accessories so darn cute! I guess anything that births admiration and adoration is positive, right?. I'm really kind-of emotionally frazzled right now. I know my hormones are doing their best to replace and replenish themselves. They've had a tough go of it these past few months. I am asking quite a bit of them, really.
I've been baking and cooking from scratch quite a bit lately. I wish I had a bigger family to cook for sometimes. I am sad and tired. Yet it makes sense that that is acceptable right now. I wish my best friends in the world would stop by and say hello. Play a game or two, and converse over air. Who are my best friends in the world? The blankets on my bed? It is incredibly windy outside today. Inside it is quieter. It's a silly railroad track of metal and oiled wood that details the grains of too much and too little. A twisty little one track road. A gymnasts beam. A thin little high line. To the left is far too much, overburdened, and exploited, used up and pushed too hard, fryed-out and violated in exhaustion. The right side is lack, neglect, loneliness, despair caught in a web of senseless thread, it is not enough and it is vast. To walk between the two with others intonations and influential murmurs without losing balance is miraculous.
Good Luck In The Game of Life.
If life isn't a game, what is it?
Happy days are spent in connection... with beautiful environment and friends. In Love.
Sad days dissolve into sheets, never cotton-enough. Wanting for softer, wanting for sleepness in the deepness.
Is it disconnection that births unrest? Would the ocean be an ocean without tides which ebb and flow, recede and grow..?
Could the moon shine for us, and water our plants in light, if it did not cycle from bright to dark?Would I be a constructive human if I did not some days wish to keep my eyes shut, and some days wish against rest?
The art on my wrist needs more color, more definition, and talent. I require another's ability and tools to put art into skin. I depend on another. I depends on lots of others. To grow watermelon for me, and to fix broken mechanics. To hinge my doors and keep the internet functioning.
A woman comes to visit who says she wishes to be without cell phones and modern commodities... to "simplify" she says would be ideal. She cannot stop downloading applications to her IPhone for a single day while visiting. She loves her obsession with the screen, and I am hardly much different. Is it simply a means of entertaining the senses? Why? What is the point of the dollar bill.? And why are cute accessories so darn cute! I guess anything that births admiration and adoration is positive, right?. I'm really kind-of emotionally frazzled right now. I know my hormones are doing their best to replace and replenish themselves. They've had a tough go of it these past few months. I am asking quite a bit of them, really.
I've been baking and cooking from scratch quite a bit lately. I wish I had a bigger family to cook for sometimes. I am sad and tired. Yet it makes sense that that is acceptable right now. I wish my best friends in the world would stop by and say hello. Play a game or two, and converse over air. Who are my best friends in the world? The blankets on my bed? It is incredibly windy outside today. Inside it is quieter. It's a silly railroad track of metal and oiled wood that details the grains of too much and too little. A twisty little one track road. A gymnasts beam. A thin little high line. To the left is far too much, overburdened, and exploited, used up and pushed too hard, fryed-out and violated in exhaustion. The right side is lack, neglect, loneliness, despair caught in a web of senseless thread, it is not enough and it is vast. To walk between the two with others intonations and influential murmurs without losing balance is miraculous.
Good Luck In The Game of Life.
If life isn't a game, what is it?