January 2nd 2007, my first entry of the year..and I write..
... and pray Kevin, what came out of all of this.
That everything happens for a reason. Period. End of discussion.
Prior to going into this MESS, yes, I thought it was going to suck major balls, however I made it through, and there is yet another road ahead. I've always said that, and I always believe that.
Tomarrow is tomarrow, and August is over. Labor day weekend. The scene flashes before my eyes of the journalist in "Love! Valour! Compassion!" as he narrates the fall sauntering in, as if an exclamation point, at the end of a sentense.
I'd like to believe that eventually the hard workers, the ones who made the choice to struggle where others let time age them-like a water into sand, will be rewarded. The Marters. That in the afterlife, its not a matter of saints and sinners, but intellect and wisdom vs lazy and unknowledgable.
Knowledge not in the textbook, how many liters of blood is in the human body (which of course is 5), knowledge in experience, in theory, in randomness.
It was on that day,that day, I loaded up, my goldfish and drove around the block. The goldfish that were in small container, water splashing, swishing with movement.
I drove knowing this was the point of no return.
I looked at the buildings admit the foggy air, knowing that they would never be this shade of grey. I'd never been in them again. Ever.
I drove solid into ice. For that is what water is. The goldfish water, splashing. Water changes. Water forms new matter out of the same. It freezes solid on my car. Headlights flicking off the crystal.
Mom greeted me with a smile. She made Taco's. And knew to smile. Knew to keep quite. Knew to keep me strong. To battle again.
I'm waiting.
Waiting for that moment. For the fall. I'm waiting to be their when the snow falls. I'm waiting to be in those arms. I'm waiting, for that SPECIFIC MOMENT.
That moment again, when I felt that I'd get by. When I felt
alive. Lungs filling with oxygen. Time standing there-and knowing that i am alive. In the moment.
And it feels great.
... and pray Kevin, what came out of all of this.
That everything happens for a reason. Period. End of discussion.
Prior to going into this MESS, yes, I thought it was going to suck major balls, however I made it through, and there is yet another road ahead. I've always said that, and I always believe that.
Tomarrow is tomarrow, and August is over. Labor day weekend. The scene flashes before my eyes of the journalist in "Love! Valour! Compassion!" as he narrates the fall sauntering in, as if an exclamation point, at the end of a sentense.
I'd like to believe that eventually the hard workers, the ones who made the choice to struggle where others let time age them-like a water into sand, will be rewarded. The Marters. That in the afterlife, its not a matter of saints and sinners, but intellect and wisdom vs lazy and unknowledgable.
Knowledge not in the textbook, how many liters of blood is in the human body (which of course is 5), knowledge in experience, in theory, in randomness.
It was on that day,that day, I loaded up, my goldfish and drove around the block. The goldfish that were in small container, water splashing, swishing with movement.
I drove knowing this was the point of no return.
I looked at the buildings admit the foggy air, knowing that they would never be this shade of grey. I'd never been in them again. Ever.
I drove solid into ice. For that is what water is. The goldfish water, splashing. Water changes. Water forms new matter out of the same. It freezes solid on my car. Headlights flicking off the crystal.
Mom greeted me with a smile. She made Taco's. And knew to smile. Knew to keep quite. Knew to keep me strong. To battle again.
I'm waiting.
Waiting for that moment. For the fall. I'm waiting to be their when the snow falls. I'm waiting to be in those arms. I'm waiting, for that SPECIFIC MOMENT.
That moment again, when I felt that I'd get by. When I felt
alive. Lungs filling with oxygen. Time standing there-and knowing that i am alive. In the moment.
And it feels great.