The wind blew me back, via Chicago, in the middle of the night.

I'm enjoying a necessary melancholy, awaiting either the catalyst or the renewal. Bitter searching of the heart, alone and pensive, I've ringed my room with lights.

I went to a cabin with Chris and Amy and Adam and Sarah over the weekend. I loved it so much that it hurt me when I left it. I was able to take a breath, enjoy the manageable beauty of November, make fun of Chris and Adam...I'll write a full trip account if I feel the need.

There's so much going on. All I have is vague whispers. I feel impatient, like I want to get everywhere quickly, but I really have nowhere to go. (Will it really happen this time. I feel, in a way, that it already has, but I've yet to absorb it, for then I'd be lost.)

There's a weekend, and there's hope. As L.C. said, I chose my journey long before I came upon this highway.

Sadness=beauty=truth.
I saw the clouds in a different way, and dreamed of strange beds.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Spring

Lovely Jewels in Joy Designed