(no subject)
i know my purpose:
to be a witness
and to treasure these things
in my heart
with work and life and money and death and separation and love all deeply in my core, knowing who i am has never been harder. every morning i wake up to a new set of worries inscribed all through my self. to save my soul i leave little reminders: the wall hanging in my office, the pictures, the crumpled notes. if i relax and unfocus my eyes i can make some kind of meaning out of it. i even incorporate the seeming inconsistencies: i swear when i talk to jesus, who has been talking back louder than ever. what the fuck, god? why like this, why now? why balance me on the knife-blade of my life, why love me so hard i fear i'll never know consciousness again? and then
i know my purpose:
to be a witness
and to treasure these things
in my heart
to be a witness
and to treasure these things
in my heart
with work and life and money and death and separation and love all deeply in my core, knowing who i am has never been harder. every morning i wake up to a new set of worries inscribed all through my self. to save my soul i leave little reminders: the wall hanging in my office, the pictures, the crumpled notes. if i relax and unfocus my eyes i can make some kind of meaning out of it. i even incorporate the seeming inconsistencies: i swear when i talk to jesus, who has been talking back louder than ever. what the fuck, god? why like this, why now? why balance me on the knife-blade of my life, why love me so hard i fear i'll never know consciousness again? and then
i know my purpose:
to be a witness
and to treasure these things
in my heart