I don't get it.

Tu sais, quelquefois ma vie est mauvais. Mais je sais que ma vie est, aussi, quelquefois beau. Bien, c'est toujours beau. Quelquefois c'est juste plus difficile à voir.

I went to Puerto Rico.  I got a call around noon  saying they had bought a ticket for me and by midnight I was a thousand feet in the air.  Puerto Rico was beautiful and strange.  It wasn't as uninhabited as Costa Rica but I still hiked in the rainforest, hoping Ashley didn't fall down the cliff and went kayaking at night through the mangrove ( Read more... )

 
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but what if the pages stayed pressed, the chapters unfinished, the stories too dull to unfold?

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 Anyone who understands music in a meaningful way should see Across The Universe ( Read more... )

It's rare that I come to this journal anymore, and it's even more rare that I use it for self expression.

I've found myself at a very trying point in my life, a point I never imagined facing.  I can't begin to explain it to anyone else, I fear what paraphrase will do to my integrity.  I should call my family and old friends but I know they will ask ( Read more... )

To see the Summer Sky
Is Poetry, though never in a Book it lie -
True Poems flee.
~Emily Dickinson

An essay discussing the many things I did this summer...


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I'm not sure how I'm still awake.  This morning I was in Anacortes, in the very far Northwest of the United States.  Now I'm in Houston ( Read more... )

But oh my love, though our bodies may be parted
Though our skin may not touch skin
Look for me with the sun-bright sparrow
I will come on the breath of the wind


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