City of…

Angels. I never really thought about how they never really leave us. Even at night, they watch down on us with blinking eyes. Green and red and white, again and again the white. Looking, searching. They are dark things, but gentle. Always looking, always finding us when we are weak.
When our thoughts are inward bound, when we are at play, when were at rest. They are quick minded, slipping around our slow perseption like a stalking cat. Quick and quiet they find us, just for a moment they touch us.
In the daylight they spread their wings and blanket miles with their soft, ghostly caress. They are flashy and bright, proud and noble. But also aloof. They cant be your friend, the light ones. The nightbirds are like sisters. The daybirds like kings. Which path is the better?
I guess we'll just have to wait and see. But I can say I have little use for kings.

Light my eyes.

The leaves sit on the trees and wait oh so. Its a slow and quiet change, not like that of the north where its big and loud in its painfuly quiet emptyness. Here its waiting, until one day, when all the leaves just know its time. Some hold on, some fight it, but others are ready to move with the wind. And it comes and sweeps at the trees like fates hand.
Its a week of change. Its a week of celebration. Its a week of death, and of life, a week of starting and ending. Above in the clearest sky in an age, the lights of heaven gaze down.
What do they think of what they see? We are so conflicted down on our little patches of green night. So conflicted, and so sublime. So much gace, so many tears. How quickly our time passes, but how brightly our candles burn.
Which moves faster through a crowd of milling souls? A laugh and a smile of sweet joy? A yawn and a shrug form the tired and the careless? Sickness at a poor soul loseing his lunch? Or the tears of a weeping girl? Each will rage through us like a firestorm. What burns brightest in us? What would this say about us if we knew?
Its not for us to say, I think. Just as the man who stands accused of a crime can't stand on his own befalf, we are to close to this thing called life. Our view is small and our blindfolds strongly knoted.
I hope the stars are watching, I hope that someone is high enough in the brittle glass night to see and be glad.
Can you even imagne what that would look like? We shine so brightly on our shadowed disk, it would be a wonder if anyone ever found us at all. We glow like the stars around us.

Sunlight.

Its always so busy, yet so peaceful. Look up and there are airplanes crusing past, silent and graceful. Look down and cars flow, or dont, but their always around. Its strange, I just realized that its a bit odd to take comfort from these things like some people take comfort from a empty forest, a babbling brook. But I guess its all in what you grow up with.
The sunsets are just as perfect here in the endless burbs, and just as peaceful to those who populate them.
I dont see the milling mass as people inside thier little shells. I dont know if I actually see the people I see on the street ether. Symbols, little else. We pass, our eyes downcast. Were so compartmentilized these days. Layers and layers of shells.
They, at least, are transucent. If I could be like sunlight I could pass through them freely and touch peoples lives as easily as the breeze.
Or are these bubbles made of soap and hope? Sometimes you just cant tell how strong something is until you give it a little tap. Will it pop like a cold bubble?

Sigh of the wind

So much pain, so much. Sometimes it just can even believe it. I really am way to sensitive. I one time made myself cry by pressing someone to open up about something. She started crying harder, and I still had no idea what was wrong, by the time she told me, I was already crying to. What a perfect night that was...
Pain.
From the very start it felt like a dream. Every moment was like a waking dream. Then we woke up.
Pain.
But I cant really say I blame you my dear, after all I had already known you 6 times longer then I should have. A friend, a good friend once told me: "Staying in love is fully acsepting someone as they are."
I did that. I even acsept that who you are is alone. It was a hard thing when I realized that staying in love with you, Nu, ment walking away. No, letting you just walk away. I never left you.
I guess you grew to hate me because I was something that didnt fit your veiw of the world. I never left, like you said I would. How many times did you tell me I would leave you. How many times did you exspect me to hurt you so much that you saw what wasnt there?
I remember one iconic time... I said "Thanks for running this with me." You heard, "Thanks for ruinning this for me." Maybe just that once I am glad that we were stuck in text, broken apart by cold missleading logic. You could just look again and see what I really said.
Thoese were good times, …different times. Round 2 was very different, I think I tried to start were I left off with you. You started off at square one again. No, thats not right, you never left your castle at all.
How many lies did you tell me? How many secrets did you keep? I dont think I ever knew you at all. Thats not true, it was your heart I never understood. I got to know your masks and shells very well. But your heart was always hidden from me.
I like to say I dont understand, but thats only a half truth. I understand what you are and why. I just have trouble with why you never saw whats so plainly painted on your face for all others to see.
Pain.
You fear it, you had it, you need it to survive.
They killed you that day, the real, loving, open you. The girl I think you used to be. When they raped and cut you, they may as well finished the deed. They drove you so far into your self you may never come back out.
Pain. The Beast of man. Taking what it wants. Hurting in blind seperation. Hurting himself…

I just couldnt do that, I would feel every drop of pain. It would kill.

Don't come back

What strange ways of thinking. Its hard to imagine that I used to be on the other side of this barrier. I can feel it between us, its the vail over our eyes. Mine is lighter then some, perhaps many. Theres gives good vision, but its baithed crimson blood. Their world is red a white, but atleast their whites are clear.

Sometimes I think of the past days in the church and wonder.. Was it worth it? Of yes, and no, and I just dont know.
There was love there, but it never really felt it was genuine. It was true and real, but it was givien to me out of obligation to the master. Not on my own marrets.
I know I didnt help anything, my actions werent aligned with my whishes. Is it fair to still carry this burden of cold steal? No, not really. But sometimes I feel that maybe I went deeper then that place, not shy away from it. There wasnt enough for me in there words, there wasnt enough for me in their hearts. The biggest wounds come from within the body.

I cant go back, I know that. But sometimes I wonder...
Im I just being stuborn?

Off

Off on an adventure! I feel like we could die at any moment, its a wild ride. Its a quest, with rewards of fragments of the light. No numbers, we are beyond numbers. Im back in a place of certain uncertainty, with no RNJ, and no one who knows what means.

The lights arent for our eyes, shifted to the blue, glowing our souls. There are so many people here, so many peers, so much grace. We have no goal but joy, no objective but light. Thank you, for this freedom.

Bird and bear and hare and fish...

Bird and bear and hare and fish…

So much pain, why do we play in it? Its nothing to wish.

Bird and bear and hare and fish…
What is it that I wish?

It never changes, it seldom ranges.
Love. A thousand times love. Im just giving it away at this point. Any takers? Its a good deal, true and fair.
Bird and bear.
Bring me a maiden fair,
let me show her my care,
let them all just stare,
will I ever heart dare?

Hare and fish…
Grant me this wish.

Quiet loving love, quiet loving life.
You'll not find much better my dear,
let us not fall to fear...
Never one more tear…

I'm sorry for betraying you.
Sometimes I just miss the clue.
God how I loved you.

Something I found out too late, Nu never needed a friend. She just wanted a patron, one of many. But you were my best friend, and I sold you out.

Im ashamed tonight, it hurts more then Nu's passing, the things I gave up for her… Its cost was high.
Im sorry Suzanne.

Testing the Waters

Its a weird thing being this late to the party, but it sure is nice being here. I guess I mean that about a lot of things, sometimes I do feel like I'm a little late to life in general.
But its like Nuria once said: I missed highschool but got to see the world.
How come I keep seeing what I missed? Why does that seem like a lame deal? I guess the things that we do just arent special anymore, once done. But if thats true, why am I having so much fun now? Will it fade in time? Somehow I dont think so.
Because I never had a goal or dream of seeing the world. Its nice to travel, yes, but the best part was doing it with the people I love. I guess for some, its just fine to go places by yourself. Its the seeking of the unknown, thrill of the exploration. But for me, in this and in all things, its the sharing of a fragment that makes it special.
My goals are comeing into alignment with my actions, now atleast. Better late then never I guess. I know its right because things are changing so quickly.

"Ka like a wind"

I just hope I dont lose myself in this storm. But I dont think thats likely. It may feel that way, but there is nothing to lose
Sometimes I feel like an empty mirror, because all I see in myself is what I find in others then shine it back.

The thing is that I see now, the only thing wrong with seeing myself this way is thinking that theres something wrong with seeing myself this way. I really am more right then I let myself believe.