± H13.com - Archives - February 2007
HomeAboutArchivesBestRandomnessStory
 
 
To Remember...1:38am tuesday, 27th february
I begin to remember what it was like to be in love. It comes and goes, at any rate, the recall of distant feelings that were once so present in me. Of course, in me, they were more like obsessions, but I’ll take what I can get. It’s not like there’s an object for it to focus on, these days, but perhaps this is just the world telling me that maybe I am ready again to be with someone. I remember, too, when I was going with my last girlfriend in ’04, that really, I was still closed off then. There were layers of armor I wouldn’t let her past, and maybe that was why it ended badly like it did. Who knows what tomorrow brings? One may find, of course, that we will be totally unprepared for what comes, but there is that small chance that what we plan for happens. Strange to think that we have learned enough of the world for such things to pass.
» comment on this entryread comments, (4) so far.

Coming True1:47am friday, 23rd february
What do you do when you realize that your dreams are coming true? Let me tell you, it can be a frightening thing. I’m finally beginning to start my own business, going to do for money what I’ve been working at as a hobby for over 5 years now. I’ve become a company in the eyes of New York State, and I’ve even got business cards printed. But it is to rush headlong into the unknown this feels like, sometimes. Mostly, I’m calm, cool, and collected, dealing with whatever comes as it comes. Really, it’s going quite well. Perhaps the only thing I fear is fear itself, and this would be a good thing — but truly, switching lanes into the one with no posted speed limit is a heady thing. The rush can be terrifying, dizzying, frantic — and incredibly fulfilling. I guess there’s only one thing you can do: charge!
» comment on this entryread comments, (6) so far.

fathom3:59am monday, 19th february
there are some rhythms in the world that cannot be captured
colors no human eye can discern, out of a mix of rainbows
love we cannot fathom, profound and silent in its moving

» comment on this entryread comments, (1) so far.

Wisdom2:05am thursday, 15th february
If what they do does not make you destitute, or in some way derail your life: if all they can do is take your money, then they cannot take a thing away from you that you do not give them: for all of what you truly possess, what is truly yours — your soul, your humanity — this is yours, and only yours, to keep or waste, by what you decide to be and do when you are wronged. This is the love of God, that He made it so that the material things are only as valuable as how much you have decided your treasure is to be these things; where your treasure is, there your heart shall be also, the good book says. When you decide that you will not be one iota less kind to someone else because of something evil done unto you, this is treasure indeed. Gold cannot buy such graces, and sometimes, we lose a little material to gain meaning we might never have received had we not so lost.
» comment on this entryread comments, (18) so far.

In the Dreaming 64:12am sunday, 11th february
In the dreaming, I folded my soul into a neat package, and mailed it to God.

In the dreaming, fire lit my senses, and I could see through all walls.

In the dreaming, I repented of sins I didn’t commit, and saved a soul elsewhere.

In the dreaming, I breathed night upon the fields, to slumber heavenly.

In the dreaming, water flowed through the sky, a river to the moon.

In the dreaming, I flew and thought nothing of it, as natural as walking.

In the dreaming, I heard the music that had no name, spoke without words.

» comment on this entryread comments, (4) so far.

Halospace1:32am wednesday, 7th february
How instantaneously they would open up, portals to other times, other places — the past, the future, beyond. I remember the apartment I had back when where a lot of this happened. People, spirits, angels, visited me from “out there” in halospace, the plane where our imaginations have form, or something to that effect. Travelers looking for the best of all possible worlds (“Try this one!” I told them), contact with Elijah somehow supposed at the helm of Yeshua ben Miriam (I think you know him as Jesus — this was way before I believed, and there is much of a backstory I could get into here)... I looked once into the face of Jim Morrison as we passed by one another in the dreaming, a caricature that he told me I also was represented like unto when he looked into my face... and strange to think none of it happened, for there was much I felt, much I experienced from that realm. Light and darkness shining from the ether.
» comment on this entryread comments, (5) so far.

Process Life1:51am saturday, 3rd february
In my soul, I have drunk of sorrow, the blue coolness that seeped through all my chest; I have tasted the emptinesses that were sharp, and those that were dull, the black tastes of those nothings. I cannot say that these were friends of mine, but I might feel that I know them well, and kept company with me in their own way — however much sensations themselves can be said to be alive. As I continue with this process life, I find that I have stopped asking why, and didn’t notice the absence, for the effect was the same whether I placed the question before me or no, that the cosmos would only answer if I myself wrote it in the ether. In fact, most of the questions now that I ask I know only my eyes will ever see, the only one who will ever care that such seeking existed.

I do not know what I expect, anymore. Things happen, I realize things, but I feel like the chapters of my life are merely copied and pasted, altering the small details of time and other minor attributes of placement; there is nothing new under the sun anymore. Is this what it is like to get old? Is this what dying is like? I know I am only half serious, but that half is deadly. I know in my heart that I prefer meaning to any pleasure, but I will search out whatever pleasures I can and take the meaning only if it happens along. This is the unreliable narrator that I am in my life; I cannot trust me. In my soul, there is a tragedy that will never be written, for the words cannot reach it. But it is there, staring at the darkness and the light, wondering that “why” it will never ask.

» comment on this entryread comments, (1) so far.

^ Top of Page

Steal Me:


Archives
august 2001
september 2001
october 2001
november 2001
december 2001
january 2002
february 2002
march 2002
april 2002
may 2002
june 2002
july 2002
august 2002
september 2002
october 2002
november 2002
december 2002
january 2003
february 2003
march 2003
april 2003
may 2003
june 2003
july 2003
august 2003
september 2003
october 2003
november 2003
december 2003
january 2004
february 2004
march 2004
april 2004
may 2004
june 2004
july 2004
september 2004
october 2004
november 2004
december 2004
january 2005
february 2005
march 2005
april 2005
may 2005
june 2005
july 2005
august 2005
september 2005
october 2005
november 2005
december 2005
january 2006
february 2006
march 2006
april 2006
may 2006
june 2006
july 2006
august 2006
september 2006
october 2006
november 2006
december 2006
january 2007
february 2007
march 2007
april 2007
may 2007
june 2007
july 2007
august 2007
september 2007
october 2007
december 2007
january 2008
february 2008
march 2008
april 2008
july 2008
august 2008
september 2008
october 2008
december 2008
january 2009
february 2009
march 2009
april 2009
may 2009
june 2009
august 2009
september 2009
october 2009
november 2009
december 2009
january 2010
february 2010
march 2010
may 2010
june 2010
july 2010
august 2010
september 2010
october 2010
january 2011
february 2011
march 2011
may 2011
june 2011
july 2011
august 2011
october 2011
november 2011
december 2011
january 2012
february 2012
march 2012
june 2012
july 2012
august 2012
september 2012
october 2012
november 2012
december 2012
january 2013
february 2013
march 2013
april 2013
may 2013
june 2013
july 2013
august 2013
september 2013
october 2013
january 2014
february 2014
march 2014
april 2014
may 2014
june 2014
july 2014
august 2014
september 2014
october 2014
november 2014
december 2014
january 2015
february 2015
march 2015
april 2015
may 2015
june 2015
july 2015
august 2015
september 2015
october 2015
november 2015
december 2015
january 2016
february 2016
march 2016
april 2016
 

© 2001-2012 H13.com. All Rights Reserved.