Tag Archives: Christmas

the moment’s touch

So, I have been thinking about rhythms, lately. Or the lack therof. I recently finished reading the last year of the oldgreypoet. Problem is, it’s a daily journal, and now that I have caught up, I miss the rapid progress … Continue reading

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Moon dragons

I haven’t written in a while. And I am not making any promises about writing more in the future&emdash;not that anyone cares, but then, I’ve never written because anyone cares; I only write because I care.

I haven’t cared in a while.

Now, maybe my intention is to start caring. And maybe I will persue that intention. And, assuming I do persue that intention, then maybe I will overcome some of the formidable obstacles I will encounter in that persuit. Perhaps finally I will arrive where I need to be. That may not be the summit, and It may not seem to be even the destination of the trail, nor even a significant junction along the way. But it may be exactly where I need to go.

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unsafe

I absolutely love chaos, which is nothing more, really, than the potential for disaster.  Opportunities for disaster fascinate me and draw me in.  I can’t resist sticking my fingers into fan blades.  I used to play with matches before I … Continue reading

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helicopters, coming

I hate everything.  I love you.  I love everything.  I hate me.  Does this or that matter; the memory of Christmas trees, of training wheels, of sibling rivalries?  Did I dress-up for Mass, once upon a life?  Did I cry … Continue reading

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