Up with Women, Down with Men

Something subliminal in a Tennessee airport.

The Importance of Being Madeline

There is a maze, an infinite system of conveyor belts. Upon each rides a single soul, its journey throughout all that is known and unknown: ever changing, never changing. The conveyor pulls a soul closer at times to another soul, or to another conveyor belt, the soul of which is further along the path, or further behind. At times a soul and a soul become close, reaching over the sides, embracing, loving, cherishing each and every moment together. But the conveyor moves on, along its never-ending path to nowhere in particular, or somewhere none can imagine, or back to where it has already traveled. It pulls souls apart, tosses them together, seemingly mindlessly going about its chore, unfeeling, unmoved by emotion, unchanging in its ever-present duties.

A soul is a fragile thing, like thin glass in a neighbourhood of young boys playing baseball. It knows the danger it is in, yet it hangs there, in the sill, daring the baseball to crash into it. Giving the world the proverbial finger. As long as that glass remains whole it is invincible.

Souls embrace, move away from each other, meet again, lose each other forever. So we dance on, through this world of emptiness, moving our feet, to the restless beat.

Secret Crystal

You are a stream pouring into a river, her love cooling... Beautiful clear ice and glass; unspecked of dust. Star shining in the night. Singing in the cosmos. Secret crystal rest forever in my embrace I'll love you with myself and hold you.

Doors

Sometimes when you stand in a doorway, looking down an endless hallway of doors, another door will open. Sometimes a new door doesn't open until you walk out into the hallway and the old door shuts firmly behind you. But a new door always opens, one just has to take a leap of faith into the hallway, knowing that soon a new door will open.

The Dreams In Which I'm Dying

Half the world is sleeping; but my whole world is sleeping. As she turns over and over in her sleep, the sheets are like the water in my dreams. She barely keeps her head above the horizon. Pushing on til morning. Make it through the night.
The storm will pass, dawn will break, we will wake. Another night after a spark. A firefly only shines when it's dark.

The heart

The heart is the centre of life. People that want to die usually have no idea what it feels like when you're in a body without a beating heart.

Going with the flow

Important changes to a river are made by the path it takes as the river runs along the ground. A stone tossed to the river makes waves, but the waves are slowly lost in the endless stream of time and space. A single drop of water starts a new wind on the path a river takes.

Optimistic pessimism

I believe people in general are cold and mean-spirited, self-centred and self-serving, but also that people have a great potential and that many of them achieve a portion of that potential by becoming more than what their base motivations would have them be. Some even fully-achieve their potential and become the best person they can be. But perhaps, part of being the best person you can be is knowing that you can always be better and striving to be that person.

A Thought on Love

After a dream I had last night it occured to me that love is like a bulldozer, going along only thinking about its purpose and forgetting about the creatures that happen to get in the way.

Made a Blog

So, I have made a blog, after a few weeks of thinking about it and being told I should by a certain friend. Lots of people are doing this apparently. My fear is of course that it's a waste of time. Doubting I have anything to say or that if I do that anyone will read it. But I am going to give it a shot.