...THERE'S ALWAYS HOPE... (I HOPE...) THERE'S ALWAYS HOPE... (I HOPE...) THERE'S ALWAYS HOPE... (I HOPE...) THERE'S ALWAYS HOPE...

... my   "Keep In Touch"   pages ... my   "Keep In Touch"   pages ... my   "Keep In Touch"   pages ... my   "Keep In Touch"   pages ... my   "Keep In Touch"   pages ...
2000 HEARTBEATS

"I sit and wait 
does an angel contemplate my fate
and do they know
the places where we go
when we're grey and old
'cos I've been told
that salvation lets their wings unfold
so when I'm lying in my bed
thoughts running through my head
and I feel that love is dead
 I'm loving angels instead"

~ Robbie Williams ~



there was a time I would start a book for each place I lived, at least one of the sections or volumes given the title of the address... titles were guides and teasers and inspirations and challenges and so much more... somewhere along the way, I stopped doing that... seems the onset of computer writing removed the need or the fun of giving a book a title... everything in virtual folders and who cares what a virtual folder is called, it's an address, not a title... so it seems, ironically, addresses as titles passed by the wayside... there's irony in there, trust me J

anyway, once upon a time, titles for the words meant something... something direct and obscure at the same time... in a single rhyme or writing, to give the words a deeper identity that would require a lot more words to explain sometimes... and in grouping rhymes or other writings, to give the collection of separate pieces still more identity... mostly for the writer, but also for readers who cared enough to delve deeply enough into enough of the writer's words to imagine the sense of the writer's mind and deeper feelings and meanings, even why words were written... sometimes, it actually works...

  and that is the beauty of writing for me...

it's been years since I wrote separate titled volumes by hand and I see the inklings of the value of titles for words calling out to me through the written gardens on the web... and yet here I have not created the title in order to fill the book as I once did... here I beasically chose a title to represent a compilation and then choose the writings that appear to fit the title at the moment... it's so random in so many ways, I wonder if the puzzle that comes together is truly representative of anything, no less me J

  time will tell, perhaps, if I don't...

time also meant more because I gave it more meaning... as obscurely as possible at times, I kept my own calendar in my mind and in these written gardens... holidays were celebrated and challenges were set in cycles based on the passing time... it provided effective and often wondrous stimulation and motivation to continue to build on what I do and who I am... to grow... to write... to share more and in expressing myself more, to be more...

the month of May was often a very reflective month for me... an expansion into new experiences after remembering the past and striving to find the positive perspectives (memory remembers a bit... as opposed to December, a month that often allowed free fall in the writings into anywhere, positive or not, to dig for the deepest and soar for the highest without any restrictions or concerns for anything but expression... and in some ways, the opposite was true as December is shared and in a sense belongs to others... to other people, other times, other dreams, as well as to myself... for one, to the illusions of desire to share and love so deeply that death appears a better alternative than living alone... while May is possessed by no one, inhabited by nothing permanent in memory except inspirations to be free... at least not yet... and at least not for another year...

I suppose the difference can be summed up as on one hand (the December hand) the goal is to find something to live and die for, something that allows the can't word some meaning as in can't live without someone and would welcome death if the world offered no such someone... and on the other hand (the May hand), the perspective is can't die without someone, without experiencing and actualizing the dream... perhaps the essential difference is one polar extreme is giving up for all the positive (compromise to peaceful and secure sharing) and negative (end of the infinite hope of freedom's growth potential) it can represent or be... and the other philosophical pole being the positive blessing of infinite hope that only comes when experiencing life alone, without compromise and the negative loneliness that also brings to those who wish to share... or something like that...

it's been some time since I've allowed a December, or any calendar influence to do it's thing... perhaps longer than May... and here May comes to an end and I find a smattering of reflection about why I write and what it all might mean for me or anyone now or someday... the subject doesn't come up much... no one asks... not even me...



NEXT BEAT



MAINGATE     HOME     GARDENS     KITS     LIFE     JOURNALS     WORK     FAREWELL



Candor Communications    ©2000