March 30, 2012

• Spring fog

  To be floating in between everything gives the feeling of being isolated from anything real.  Humanity crows and guffaws at its games, its loud revelry and meaningless dancing, while the heavens hum soft tunes of salvation and communion of the saints.  But to be a human who is not quite with humanity, but not to the heavens, is to be between two worlds, and it is very lonely thing to be looking back and forth at the only places where people truly choose to live their lives. 

  I went back to that dank alleyway years later.  I still couldn’t find your ring.

  You feel amazing things, but you assume other people have a default of emotionlessness, and you can’t just come up to them and assume they know everything and overwhelm them. You have to start somewhere and build it all up. But that’s not being honest – you *really* feel the way you do. And so the world forces us to not be honest.
  
  But soon enough, while you are on hold waiting for someone to be in a position to understand them, the emotions disappear altogether.

  There has never been a round of applause for loneliness.

  People could not accurately express despair before keyboards.  Only keyboards can go fast enough when the thoughts come stampeding.

  You know barely any people.  And of the people you do know, you barely know them.

  A poem with too much obscurity, and a poem with too little obscurity – neither will affect us much.

  I want someone to read I know will never lie to me.  That I can always go to to find truth.

  “Remember when was everything was simpler?” he said, his arms set on the railing as he looked at the trees.
  “You know everyone says that, and they say it just like that, like they were robbed.  But things would still be simple if we had the integrity to keep them that way.”
  He looked at me sternly, like I had spent the afternoon rummaging through his things.

  Do not read too much.  Slowly the assumption will creep up on you that creativity and the courage to act was only meant for others.

  Rhythms of life – there are so many of them.  And each person seems to have their own in a very real and indelible way.  Some people I know have very different rhythms than other people I know, and I always wonder what would happen if those people met each other. 

  It’s weird how it can seem like nothing real is happening in your life for long amounts of time, but then in a week, a day, a single minute, things will suddenly start happening fast and won’t let up.

  We go the same places, but they feel different in our minds than they used to.  What is it deep in our heads that keeps changing the way everything looks? 

  This spring will be very tiring.  Human minds were meant for clarity at the beginning and ends of things.  So we pray that in the middle of everything, we will not lose ourselves.

  • 2:27 am
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