...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 ...
A Journal of Sorts


"once I saw a dream, I had to chase it 
dreams quickly turn to reality
who's at fault
in this game of yours and mine
 well I guess I'll never know"


~ Offspring ~






there is no reason to continue, really... it is just vanity sometimes, some desire for immortality, some recognition of me that might carry on, that keeps me uploading pages... the rambling is often personal self-therapy as much as pure creative release... the bottom line is that free association makes the two disparate sources indistinguishable at times... but the uploading is undeniably the apparently inextinguishable desire to share...

the dream (impossible?), the hope (unrealistic?),
and ultimately, the stubbornness (me)...

and when I do not succumb to self-pity and foolish ego pitfalls learned by spending too much time in the insecurity games that try to convince us of the importance of status and position and other superficialities of the physical world, all is well and I can (and often do) enjoy the diversity and freedom of the paths I choose... even when I think I don't choose them...

how foolish to turn myself off... to consciously forget each step is my choice... to ignore the sensory input and potential gain, if only knowledge and experience, from each moment... to pretend I don't know what I've known all along... the choices I made that lead me here... were they all just to be able to write another song?... perhaps... the method to my madness may have been lost in the obscurity and/or volume of expression... unless you choose to find it, and then either you are lost too... or...

these wandering days
in the angels hands
in the strangers fires
in uncertain lands
without roots to grow
as adrift at sea
without an anchor to hold
nothing but faith in me

these wandering times
where the spirits fly
in precarious trusts
unexplainable why
reason fails alone
passion aches to touch
understanding now
is a need so much

these wandering ways
in the ancient's walk
loneliness surrounds
with imprecise talk
a longing for comfort
brings hope to fade
as nobody finds the key
to these wandering ways

these wandering rhymes
in the shadow of ghosts
we are all guests
there are no hosts
in a moment we're here
in a moment we're gone
there's no getting off
until you turn on

in these wandering days
in these wandering times
living wandering ways
living wandering rhymes
in one breath we're here
in one breath we're gone
there's no getting in
until you turn on

there's no comfort
there's no connection
there's no way home
there's no protection
one breath we're here
one breath we're gone
there's no rest
until you turn on

these wandering rides
lost on the outsides
there's no getting in
until you turn on

these wandering sounds
on merry go rounds
there's no getting off
until you turn on


much of the time completion is overrated... the process is the journey, the journey is life... completion is an end and while most ends come so new things can begin, the end and the beginning are but brief moments between journeys and it is the journey that we are here for... we do not begin to end, we begin to proceed, to continue... the journey is continuing...

 and when the mind opens, it all makes sense...
 and when it all makes sense, there are no hardships...
there are only new experiences to process
new sensory input to understand
and new journeys to explore
and learn to enjoy J



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