A Journal of Sorts
"he move with some uncertainty as if he didn't know just what he was there for or where he ought to go once he reached for something golden hanging from a tree and his hand come down empty" ~ Carole King ~ |
ah... sigh... alas... remembering this empty hand brings the sweetest of bittersweet smiles... for it was still within the purity of innocnce that the mistakes lead to heartbreaks and today is her birthday... I wonder how her memories have fared over the years and whether I am as important in her history as she is in mine... well, maybe one day we will find out J and how old are we now? so many years since I've explored the depths of love I felt the first time I fell, still the deepest ever... yes, it is time to rank and the deepest ever is still the first... the deciding factor (at least one prime) could easily have been the cruelty attached to the third and the indifference attached to the second (though the second was brief and there were others during this life that meant much, but varied on the falling in scale)... this is what this mind (I've tried to shut it down, really I have) does during these lonely times... plays games with evaluations and measures and assessments and placements... it gives order to the memories and that might make them worth reviewing... . o O ( kind like a show? ) O o . could be ego wishing for recognition or praise or maybe even immortality (maybe more or deeper than ego... is there a human instinct for wanting to be known and remembered?... I believe there is one for wanting to be loved and nurtured... that's the one that's guided me all through this life)... but the child most devoted to me for the longest time ultimately abandoned me when life interfered, when the challenges grew... in fact, every child, every person who shared what was supposed to be unconditional love and trust ultimately vanished... in some cases, by explosive and total betrayal... in some cases, in a storm of confusion and external pressures... in some cases, through benign neglect, apathy, and fear of facing rejection or life... there is so much beating in my heart that even if you found the heartbeat referred to at this moment, I doubt anyone would follow the threads long enough to understand even a fraction of the expressions I've put on the web, o less the whole of the written gardens or... it all (all is so much, really)... words for so long, words have been the escape and the sanctuary, the madness and the reason, the hope and the folly... this is where despair grows horns and tears through the scars, where desire bears fangs and rips through apathy, where healing begins and hope ultimately prevails... but sometimes... I get lost... and my hand comes down empty |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| 
|
Happy Birthday Amy |
audios literata edibles gardens oddends linkage |
work,
work, local radio Talisman by Stephen King & Peter Straub foods Wanted (2) wantlist READ DISCLAIMER beat poetry Secret Santa |
(TO LEARN MORE ABOUT WHAT THIS IS, CLICK ON THIS LINK)
JOURNAL INDEX |
TURN THE PAGE |
THE SAME-TIME MENU BAR - FOR EACH GARDEN AROUND THIS SAME TIME NEW KIT WORKLIFE LIFETIME JOURNAL HEARTBEAT WANTS |
