"your mind is like blue sky"

I find that more and more, I have to remind myself not to let the storms of certain loved ones affect the blue sky within. It's hard to watch their skies, so dark and gray, as they become more and more angry with long-held grudges or various trivialities. It's hard when I see how much it hurts them, when I see the bigger picture underneath. But in spite of it all, I've managed to keep my peace and stay in-tune...beyond grateful for this guidance to remain strong.

grateful

just a week ago, a particular incident warned me not to put too much faith in strangers; however, today I was reminded that though caution is indeed necessary, I needn't lose all hope because honesty and kindness exist in even the most seemingly dire of situations.

happiness

I slowly open my eyes to find my palms lifted, facing upward against the familiar gray shadows on the ceiling. It's as if I'm seeing my hands for the first time, and I find myself in awe of the intricacy of each finger. Grateful for this newfound angle and appreciation, I proceed to slowly circle them through the air. I close my eyes once more, and this time see thousands of white specks against deep, black space: stars. I have been transported to another galaxy entirely. Whirring through the Cosmos at infinite speed, a familiar white light flickers in the distant center. As the endless space continues to envelop me, I can't help but smile: there truly are universes beneath our skin.

inside

don't let me forget,

I know this is true

don't let me forget,

my love flows from you

the rain, it pours down

though sun's peeking through

the rain, it pours down

a reminder of truth

To the woman who gypped me of my grandma's christmas money,

I knew from the second you began your rambling, detailed story that the chances of it actually being true were slim to none. A combination of common sense & intuition led me to sense that something about it all was not right.

But still, there I stood, nodding and listening as the rain poured down on you.

After "exchanging numbers," I had you look me in the eye and confirm that you were being genuine, though even then, I sensed--I knew--that the number was fake and that "genuine," you were not.

But still, there I stood, opening my journal & taking the crisp $50 bill out of its envelope.

I put it into your open palm as you gasped with relief and gratitude. You shook my hand to thank me, but I gave you a hug and wished you luck with everything. As I crossed the street, the foolishness of what I'd just done started to hit me. Why did I give you the money when from the beginning, I knew you were lying? Why did I play along and exhibit empathy for you? I think part of me wanted to believe your story, even though it couldn't have been a more obvious scam. I think part of me wanted to help you because you seemed so desperate, so strung out.

And it's strange. Yesterday, as I walked away, I calmly admitted the mistake to myself, recognizing what had just transpired as a life lesson I needed to learn. However, today, after I called your "number" and felt the full reality of the situation wash over me, I started to cry--and not because I would never get the money back. No. I could care less about the money. I cried for you and the many other troubled people who behave like you do on a daily basis. I cried as I understood the lesson I needed to learn: I can't always give people the benefit of the doubt, and I'm not going to be able to help everyone I meet along this journey; in some cases, it's necessary to say no and walk away. At times, there really is such a thing as being too nice.

a sincere desire

Sometimes, I wish I could sit down with all the people I know and tell them everything about them that is beautiful. And by "beautiful," I'm not referring to physical beauty, though oftentimes a person's physicality will glow due to the energy of the life force within. There are so many intricate pieces that make up each person...so many varying traits in personality, so many different kinds of passion and ways of expressing oneself. Everyone is so unique. Everyone has a story. Sometimes, I just want to tell everyone how much I love them.

"I wish I could show you, when you are lonely or in darkness, the astonishing light of your own being."

center

the music swells and fills my soul, chills darting up my back and down my arms. the notes are drawn out, encapsulating the complexity of human emotion. singing fully, engaged completely....voice in-tune with presence.

Hare Raama Raama Raama, Seeta Raama Raama Raama....

"Let the river of these names take you...let yourself float in the beauty of your own heart into the ocean of love that fills all space, that ALWAYS is...that ONLY is."

highest

eyes closed

in darkness

concentration

on that beloved point

shifting patterns,

swirling, spiraling.

coming forward

from center

a twisting,

open circle.

grateful for

this shining light,

a light of peace.

sweet synchronicity

the other day after exiting a coffee shop, I made my way down the sidewalk and observed my fellow human beings. many brushed past me on their cell phones, while others would stare blankly ahead at the empty space in front of them, perhaps running through their mental "to-do lists," thinking about their destinations, or recalling past conversations. that's when I realized why it is so refreshing (albeit rare) to make eye-contact with smiling strangers. it's like connecting, if only for a second, with someone else who is awake in the dream.

after a minute or so I made it to the end of the sidewalk. while waiting for the stoplight to change so I could cross the street, I took the first, precious sip of my eggnog latte. I instantly felt the familiar spark of warmth that starts in the chest and then spreads throughout the entire body. it was right at that moment that it occurred to me how that feeling of comfort is not too different from the ever-present joy that has lately been pervading my heart, my being. in fact, they are almost identical.

so it begins

"People take different roads seeking fulfillment and happiness. Just because they're not on your road doesn't mean they've gotten lost."

It seems that this is going to have to become my mantra. There's no rush. Nowhere does it say that the typical route is carved in stone. I send you love & light on your journey, but please understand that we each have to discover what is best for us in our own way. In fact, what seems unwise or illogical to you may be enlightening and necessary for another.

"isn't it a pity?"

the old saying about "all paths" has never been wrong per se, but it seems to only truly apply in rare cases these days. "all paths" may lead to the same destination in the sense that each "route" holds the same basic truths. however, as a wise radical once said, the translations have gone wrong. people are looking in the wrong places, blindly accepting (maybe even rejecting) all they've ever been told.

if you feel something's missing, stop searching outside yourself or assuming that "this" or "that" will happen when you reach the supposed "end." stop thinking. stop assuming.

just be,
go deep,
and know.


"the harvest truly is plentiful, but the laborers are few."

omnipresence

My eyes,
they were opened
--or so I believed

That was just the beginning;
I now know that I need

to keep searching more deeply
as I open my heart

In You lies my love,
and this is the start

All the beauty & joy
that I've known to be true
are merely small pieces
of the overall You

So grateful am I
as I'm starting to see
that the answer's in me,
and your light sets us free

I'll search and I'll find
what was there all along

I'll search and I'll find
that your Love is the song

within you & without you

as I sit here & the night wares on, I recall yesterday's walk (crisp air, the twirling dance of leaves, and a crystal-clear sky).

The past few days I've come to realize something: I'm much quieter than I used to be. Sure, that has has always been an occasional characteristic of my personality...but this is a more definite shift. It became apparent while recently spending time with dear friends I hadn't seen in a while. There were many more moments in which I felt no desire to infuse the conversation with loud & spontaneous energy. Instead, it felt more right for me to observe & maintain a sense of calm contemplation. Again: sure, those have always been characteristics of my personality...but they've grown deeper now. I found myself having to frequently insist that I was "okay," to assure them that nothing was wrong. Part of me wishes I could better explain the reason for this change, but I know that's something I must keep within as I continue on the path.

as I sit here & the night wares on, a familiar, winter-sort of wind howls outside my window (echoing from chimney to fireplace, rustling the trees, and bringing peace).

a tender truth

you looked me straight in the eye & said that every person is made up of various boxes and that in our relationships, we have to turn over all the boxes that make up a person in order to uncover their individual being. you told me that right now, a present interaction provides ongoing excitement and mystery; while over here, the last box was overturned a long, long time ago. so far back in the past that we couldn't remember if we tried...so far back that right now, there is nothing left to find.

and that is perfectly alright.

now

Love is bigger than the mind. Love is bigger than what I want. Love is bigger than envy...and much more than a feeling.

Love is recognition; it is acceptance.

infinite: don't forget

we're all learning,
we're all growing

deep within...we remain one.

It's quite the paradox, but we're heading toward the same goal...ultimately we'll all reach the same state.

deep within...your soul's still there.

many lives: notbroken

it's been fascinating. strange. unreal. torturous. mysterious...mystifying...mystical, even.

and it is what it is.

For so long, I've yearned to know what is really buried beneath these feelings & for the first time, it seems I may be able to get the help to do just that.

No longer is this some sort of impossible fantasy.

and it is what it is.

clipped - part 2

I passed by you on a bus, but it wasn't until much later that I realized what I'd missed. I ran. Sprinting up and down hills of endless streets, running past those horrible "soldiers" as they set fire to the concrete. I was so scared that they wouldn't let me pass through, but I guess I looked "the part" enough because somehow, I made it. A huge center. There were so many stairs...and I almost got trapped underneath as some flights were unbelievably close to the ceiling. But I finally made it to the window. It was empty, except for a random man in the worn leather booth, gazing out the window. I said to him, "This is my lucid dream. I should be able to do what I want, right?" For some reason I turned around and in an instant, you were there. But the second we embraced, I cried. Because it wasn't real & it never had been.

I knew just as much, but it still hurt. And you told me I'd get through this.

clipped

No matter how hard I tried, I could not fly.
Even in the presence of loved ones, surrounded by the strong walls of my own home,

I could not fly.

So I taught my brother. "This is my favorite thing to do when I know I'm dreaming. I want to show you how..." I later attempted a few times more, but still to no avail. So we just watched him beautifully spread his arms, peacefully floating in the air above us. She said something about how my inability was probably a result of my current mental state out in reality. I agreed. Something must be very wrong when I can no longer feel free.

to just be

sometimes, we're faced with unexpected troubles & must make a choice. and sometimes, the hardest decisions are the right ones. I wrote several months back that "the right choice isn't always the easiest." while that holds true in this case as well, I know I need to do this.

"what saves a man is to take a step. and then, another step."

blurred weeks

This isn't me. I'm not me. This goes against everything I know. I need to pick myself up. I need to care. Or at least suck it up. I don't do anything. I don't want to do this. But that shouldn't matter. I've created a mental block. I miss home. The others miss home. But they still do it. I don't understand. I don't know.

I may physically be here, but I am gone.

wise words

"that's for sleeping people. people who look at their feet when they walk, instead of looking up."

even if i tried, i could never go back to sleep.

on the verge

still there,
underneath it all

unfolding,
give it time

adjust

floating through the days,
sleep is what I crave

I need to get up,
but I'm stuck.

wanderer

this is all-too familiar...so familiar it has become foreign: tainted & insignificant. this body doesn't need much, but this mind wants to help & this soul wants to spread some light.

spiral out

It used to be "words" that provided that comfort...or so it seemed. Now it's clear that it's not about the words...but the space between them: the gaps. "Wrap me, cover me" not with words...but nothingness. Grounded, to face this intensity and wonder. "Dripping, oozing tenderness."

moving forward

nothing is truly hidden: it's an open secret.
the message is here for all of us: it's waiting for you.

a match

the signs keep coming,
the path keeps growing

and I know that this couldn't be more right.

a reminder, a fact

You may tell yourself you're not good enough, but you are.
You may tell yourself you can't, but you can...and you will.

You have a specific purpose, a calling; this is part of the journey.

patience

I watch the action from a distance--always here on the sideline. sometimes I listen, give advice, and smile--knowing that someday, it will be my turn.

but sometimes I still get lonely.

the horizon

speeding down that freeway,
the lights of our city

music blasting,
the wind in my face

air rushing in,
from both sides and above

the motion we both love

we sing out,
belting words that get us through

hands up and out against the night,
then together to remember

everywhere at once

Emily Dickinson couldn't have been more right: "To see the Summer Sky is Poetry." There's nothing like that beautiful blue...the zig-zag clouds and the golden sun, just starting to set. There's nothing like a breeze, the slight chill that hits the back of your neck and brushes against your bare feet...whilst the sun beats down on your face. Nothing like a frighteningly close nest of buzzing bees...and the unexpected pleasure brought on by their company. There's nothing like the noises of rustling branches behind you, rushing cars farther down in front, and a speeding plane overhead. There's nothing like shadows created by light from the setting sun...and the realization that its warmth will never actually leave: it's always here, within each one of us.

"I see you colorful; I see you in the trees.
I see you spiritful; you're in the breeze.
I see it in your hands; tree fingers draw a beam.
I see you in the sand; roll down the stream..."

As a flock of birds flap their wings against the summer sky, I am left with this message: our souls are meant to soar.

"this is how...shine"

you saw me.

you were the first, but I now understand that you weren't what woke me up. your presence...that undeniable connection definitely played a part: it was the final push toward a new beginning. but it wasn't everything. that start was the result of years of change and growth. yes, you helped. you were vital...necessary. and you continued to teach me even when you'd leave on and off...without trying, without knowing. each day brought more and more. but still--in spite of your presence and aid--the awakening was a matter of self-discovery.

you saw me.

my eyes were opened & we seemed to see together, but slowly the colors became even brighter. and I felt so alone. you hurt me without trying...more than I think you'll ever know. as I came into myself and saw the beauty all around, my love grew deeper. as my awareness expanded, so too did the intensity of my feelings. but still--in spite of the wrongs you committed and the pain I couldn't control--I have no regrets about anything. this all happened exactly the way it was supposed to.

you saw me.

day and night, you absorbed my thoughts, my dreams. for so long, I waited for the moment we would see from the same perspective. I wanted you to feel and embrace the light: together and within. but now, we no longer view the world in all the same colors. we face the difficulties in different ways.

I see now.

this is a freer kind of love. I can separate what you gave me and my care for you from my false hopes and uncontrollable emotions. we have different purposes, different challenges. you have to go through what life brings you, just as I have to go through what life brings me. but still--I want you to know--I will always be here.

I've just stopped waiting.

within

a burning candle floats center and holds its orange glow for a few moments, then disappears into darkness.

shifting shapes, shifting space.

shanti, shanti; you are infinite.

a taste

started to feel
bits and pieces

of what it's like
on the other side

light

A month or so ago I wrote something along the lines of, "Underneath it all, we choose the way we want to feel." And I wanted to expand on that thought. While we have no control over how someone or something may affect us, we do have the amazing ability to choose our ultimate reactions. Without consciously realizing it, we usually find it easiest to respond with anger/sadness to something that hurts us. We hold on to these feelings. They become a part of us. And though this kind of response is indeed tempting, there are other options: recognition and acceptance.

Feel your emotion--be it anger, frustration, bitterness, envy, regret, sadness...anything. Recognize it. And let it flow through you. Sit with it. Then, when you're ready, let it go. And feel the freedom.

Accept the entire situation as a necessary lesson...start to see what the experience taught you or perhaps understand that you may not realize the lessons till later. This option, when acted upon daily, allows for a kind of inner peace and joy that cannot be broken, no matter how intense our feelings may be.

rescued

Each of us has been hurt in some way. Each of us has experienced deep pain. Our stories may be different, but--when it comes down to it--we are all just tiny, broken pieces of a marvelous, GIGANTIC puzzle.

Next time you feel alone, remember: we are one (and this puzzle would never be complete without your past, your present...YOU).

unbound

that last flick of the switch
led to a darkness unlike anything I'd ever seen.

my darkest night
and a sound so final.

the right choice isn't always the easiest.

rebirth

how did I not see it till now?

speeding down the freeway;
head out the window. lights. dark blue.

it's that evening sky that told me;
the higher self spoke and all was clear.

it's okay to love and let be.

for the day

I don't remember anything except that I was falling down deep...sinking. I couldn't stop it. I remember someone trying to reach me from above, but they were so far away...and I kept sinking. I don't know whether I was eventually saved or not, but I guess it doesn't really matter either way. Both interpretations seem to provide some sort of hope.

"To dream that you are drowning indicates that you are feeling overwhelmed by unresolved emotions or repressed issues that are coming back to haunt you. You may be proceeding too quickly in trying to understand your unconscious thoughts. You should proceed more cautiously and slowly. If you drown to death, this refers to an emotional rebirth. If you survive the drowning, then a waking relationship or situation will ultimately survive the turmoil."

in/out

I hope you know what you mean to me. I hope you can see it. I know I've said this before & words will never be enough, but let me say it again...thank you.

I hope you know you are beautiful.

a secret

it wasn't acting. it was adapting, relating, and sharing pieces of my soul.

that is why.

HOME

free your mind, open your heart.
free your mind, open your heart.

it bursts forth; all is well.

after a rough night of sleep

Dreams feel real. As we dream, we often think we have no control and react as though the events that happen to us are out of our hands. But then, when we awake, we realize that this is not so, that we were really in control of everything. Who’s to say the same goes for life, but we just don’t know it yet? Everything that “happens” to us results from our own choices and reactions. Like in dreams, we have the latent power to not let our minds get the best of us. Underneath it all, we choose the way we want to feel.

It’s time to WAKE UP. Life has the capacity to be nothing but a lucid dream...we just don’t know it yet.

shine

as I walked up and down that familiar sidewalk, the world was dancing. a smile glued to my face, I could feel the light from inside pouring out, surrounding me and everything in sight.

bright, beaming, glowing.

lives

I remember everything;
yes, I remember everything,
and I can feel what I do not know.

continuation

this is nothing,
that is nothing.

but at the same time,
they're everything.

we are all everything.

warmth

I want to wrap my arms around the entire world.

this is happening for a reason,
that is happening for a reason.

I'm spinning in circles with my arms wide open.

conspiracy

why is reality a theory?
they want you think otherwise.

I don't know

pieces. broken, little pieces are all I have here. what do you have? don’t you see? you have so much more. this shouldn’t be, this isn’t fair, but nothing is fair. fair isn’t fair. unfair is fair. fair doesn’t exist. but I am still here. stuck with broken pieces. I want more. I’m stubborn. stubborn, but impatient. and this mix is really starting to frustrate me.

control

i said,
but deep down,
i feel.

"erase erase erase erase erase erase.
get out get out get out get out get out.
please, it's too much."

stuck. they're stuck. it's stuck.

deep down.

and the only way I'll rid myself of this
is by finding you somewhere else.

scent

when it appears, i'm there again;
it's yours, it's you.

but it always disappears as quickly as it enters,
and I'm left

with an intangible memory.

incorrect roles

lately, her supposed words of wisdom are never anything I don't already know. but I listen anyway so she feels like she's doing her part.

4:30 PM--Tuesday Evening

The campus bluffs. Second bench from the right. Familiarity. View of three tall trees and the city of Los Angeles: cars, freeways, homes, office buildings, stores, mountains, sky. Slight breeze. Birds chirping, cars speeding. I've been sitting here a while now. I needed to get away from the dysfunction. To just be. I missed this spot. It's so beautiful.

Sitting in silence makes you realize how everything is moving--constantly moving--around us. Be it the grassy weeds rustling in the wind, birds chirping as they soar together (or hide in their nests), a fly buzzing past your ear, shadows dancing across the rocky pebbles and dirty sand; the smallest things are living. Right now, it is so apparent: though we may not always notice, there is life in everything. We are simply highly-evolved animals and part of this vast, infinite universe...no more than those birds in the sky or even those ants on the ground. When you really sit down in complete stillness, when you allow yourself to empty your mind of thoughts (the pain...that loneliness), it becomes so clear.

Why must we torture ourselves? Why do we allow ourselves to give in to this rigid culture? Why are we going through the motions? Why do we think we are everything, that this is everything? There is so much more than this "life;" there is so much more than what we see. I wish everyone could experience that stillness of being. Here. Now.

This moment is all we have, all we'll ever have.

infliction

Contrary to what you may tell yourself,
I am in the middle--always have been, always will be.

Your anger seeps deep into my bones as if it were my own, but I'll never feel it myself. I continue to see only clarity: there may be two sides to every story, but neither are right.

Contrary to what you may tell yourself,
the truth is a myth.

unfeeling: to be true

i'm here. i was there. i'm here. why? why not? why couldn't you? why was i there? why am i here? i'm here, i know. i know it. do you? was it all in my head? none of that was okay. this is not okay. i learned. i am learning. oh, i am learning. i care. i'm sorry. i wish it could help. i wish i could. i want you to know, to really know.

rest

while you have got the chance,
why don't you
take a seat

and listen
to the peace
of the afternoon breeze?

SHIFT

It's curious how we often don't realize till later the signs that had been there all along. I have no doubt everything will fall into place; I can already see the pieces.

possessive envy

I hate when I get this way because I know I'm wrong to feel it (and that I'm being selfish). Not only do I know exactly why I'm upset, but I also understand why I shouldn't be. I can acknowledge all the good, see the positive aspects of the other side. I can realize that this is just a matter of ego getting in the way--on a deeper scale, this is nothing. I know that all I have to do is let things be. So why am I still here, feeling this?

CLASH

I want to get out.
I want to see the beauty.
I want to find that love.
I want what I know to match up with what is.
I want to live.

I am crying.
I am confused.
I am frustrated.
I am torn.
I am afraid.

energy

there's no way to describe it exactly, but it's a clearly palpable sensation.

something that flows among all of us.
something that once it begins, only grows bigger and bigger.

united by this pull,
united by this magic.

we are one,
and we are alive...

with 'the sound of music' and the bond of togetherness.

consciousness: inspired

our minds,
our thoughts,

are not who we are.

we are so much less,
we are so much more.

amidst the joy

lately, around midnight//unfamiliar
nothing typical nor painful//deep

A DREAM

ease

till we're somewhere else,
somewhere far away

separation

a fire starts;
smoke billows

I make the escape,
tho afraid you won't

terror

all of a sudden,
I see you
amidst the others

slowly, you come up
from down below

relief

a wrong and a right

no.

I will never ever "learn to be aggressive."

even if that means--as you screamed so vehemently--I'll "end up on the streets."

selfish

I am

but
selfish
are you

you don't know me,
and you don't know you.

INTO SOMETHING

picked a flower,
a purple flower

(that magical air
with a certain sadness)

flower for you,
flower FOR YOU

(grasped tightly
as a stranger)

then I broke the screen

the hours

I'm sick of this elitism, this disconnect, this constant loneliness. I want some sort of ease. Sure, I feel bits of it from the sense of awareness, but no matter what I may see or feel, I can't stop this incessant longing for something more, something intangible. I sometimes taste freedom, but deep down, I am trapped. I want so badly to get out of my head, into some sort of ease. I want to be okay with the way we live.

a whisper

what's so wrong with that silence?
maybe, it was supposed to tell us something.
maybe, we weren't listening hard enough.

LUCID

I was walking down what was apparently the familiar street we all know so well. The one that usually has those huge, colorful cylinders of light...except for some reason, they weren't there. And the street was wider, unpaved. No cars were in sight. Nothing but a blue banner with words written in antique font hanging above a sea of people.

Some were skipping, dancing freely to the music, the melodies of the crowd's exclamations. Others ran around with open arms, hugging both loved ones and total strangers. It was straight out of one of those scenes you sometimes see in movies, the kind where everyone is reveling in victory and relief brought on by the war's end, where everyone is united in the present moment.

As I stood there smiling & absorbing the euphoria, it suddenly dawned on me: "This is a dream. I am dreaming." Without a single thought, I instantly knew what to do. SPREAD ARMS OUT. ROTATE FEET. LIFT UP. DOWN. REPEAT. Suddenly, I was flying. Over the sea and into the open sky. "This is a dream, but I'm not dreaming. This is real."

And I was flying.

"MAKING [it] COUNT"

the future?
the future is now.

look around, and you'll see.

please quit waiting for some magical day when
your life will "really begin."

it's already here.

waste

sometimes,
I turn on the faucet

just to hear
the water run.

compared with the heart

(please realize)

it happens

walking or working; laughing or listening,
sitting, sharing, singing, smiling

some days more than others, some less

but every night

every night as I lie here and stare at the ceiling--attempting to appease that little nuisance we unfortunately need to survive--
an image, words once said: a flash of thought & memory rushes in

(please realize)

observations on a recurrent theme

After English class the other day, as I was copying down some quotes I'd enjoyed from Mrs. Dalloway into my journal, something suddenly dawned on me.

This "disillusionment" we refer to (and have been the past several years) when discussing the modernists...we often brush it aside as some sort of negative viewpoint, an unfortunate result of World War I, etc. And true, it isn't exactly positive. But disillusionment in itself holds an an incredible amount of truth.

The dictionary definition:
"The act of freeing from an illusion, or the state of being freed therefrom."

How interesting. The definition is clearly not pessimistic; in fact, it is quite.. positive. To be "freed." And yet, without saying so, in our discussions, we often paint "disillusionment" in a negative light. We seem to categorize it as the equivalent of "depressed." And yes, they have similarities and overlap...but you cannot see it solely in this way.

The "disillusioned" see the truth. But it is this immense clarity that has "depressed" them, overwhelmed them to the point they must trade their pain for numbness.

Though I plan on keeping my optimism and ideals, I think we can all learn something from the "disillusioned."

"One cannot bring children into a world like this. One cannot perpetuate suffering, or increase the breed of these lustful animals, who have no lasting emotions, but only whims and vanities, eddying them now this way, now that...human beings have neither kindness, nor faith, nor charity beyond what serves to increase the pleasure of the moment. They hunt in packs. Their packs scour the desert and vanish screaming into the wilderness. They desert the fallen. They are plastered over with grimaces."

leave well enough alone

onefewmostknowsamepresence

there comes a point:

the hiding
is tiring,

and not enough
is too much.

cosmic truth

The words are yours,

but they are also hisherstheirs.

generations
upon generations

cultures
upon cultures

lifetimes upon lifetimes,
the words belong to all of us.

mixed-up dialogue

they're here?

no.

there. here.

INTERIM

It's only been a year, but I'm thirsting again.

For what? I'm not exactly sure. I just know that I am. There is so much now, and for that I am incredibly grateful.

But tonight I realized that in spite of it all, something's missing.

what I really learned in physics

a plane needs a curve in each wing so it can fly.

we need the curves, the bends of life, in order to do more than simply exist.

it's alright,
it's okay.

a plane goes up,
and it goes down.

so do we.

we'll get through this. and if you need me, I'll be here to help with the lift.

unbound

everything appears easy
in retrospect

everything makes sense
in retrospect

but retrospect is not reality
and in the now, things are never that clear

surrounded

falling rocks rattle

forgotten music

a crow, a bark
in the distance

barren, covered
parts and wholes

forgotten music

after the shuffle

clouds float, slowly making their way across the sky
while the moon and I choose to remain motionless.

at a standstill.

the sky has become so clear that even the stars have deemed it worthy of making an appearance in this beautiful, smog-ridden city.

at the touch and scent of cold cement,
I breathe the air.

deep, steady breaths of fresh night air.

post-preface

stare, listen to
the song spilling
over and
into

stare, watch four
blinks shift from
past to
future

now

an awakening
behind, though forever
inside

what change, what beauty, what gladness

the one who's always in

denial

...DENIAL?

You have misinterpreted me. Who I am.

And I'm sorry--I'm not saying this to be cruel--but you are the one whose life is DRIVEN by denial.

Or actually, one could say your life is NOT driven because of it.

denial?

try

feeling.
sensitivity.
optimism.
idealism.

Your words hurt me...wound me.
They're poison, and this is all I can do to flush it out.

YET

Your name was on my ticket. At first, I thought my mind was playing tricks on me. But no. Right there, in bold letters, your name was printed on my ticket.

And I laughed to myself at what was just another.

combination

the bruises
are no longer
visible

but that doesn't

mean they
are no longer
there

move

gold lights

track's

hum

shrill horn

cabin's

squeaks

bumpsrattlesvibrations

(an otherwise consistent task)

figurative

at any other time,
from any other person,
I would jump

to hear it.

but now,
with you,
clarity

is my one desire.

minutes till

for some strange reason
(at this specific second)
my inner monologue
is pissing me off.

WHY

not a clue

lying here, I yearn for
an out-of-body experience
but must resort to--

WAIT

hold on, stop
(I like myself again)

can't you see
how it saves me?

broken

Turn it off.

This is what I needed to do. But the noise is somehow still there: the euphony, the energy, and the static. I hear it all, the songs that are still playing. No matter what buttons I choose to press, I not only continue to hear the noise, but I feel it--flowing through me. All over. But I know that over time, the music will grow softer and softer. A little bit each day, until finally--it fades into a distant melody.

shared

such...real happiness is almost always accompanied by real pain. it's a package deal. you simply cannot have one without the other. so...get used to it?

altitude: 37026 ft

Blue sky
above me

Blue sky
surrounding me

Endless blankets
(of clouds)
below me;

Up here,
in the air

I journey through
unparalleled beauty

and think to myself:
I was born to fly.