random bliss

i've drawn a line in the sand.

god, i wish i could write something well that's non-emo. fuck.

line in the sand. upon closer inspection, a line in the sand is so indefinite. so approximate.

at some point, which side the little grains belong to is impossible to know. for sure.

no more lines in the sand, unless it's purely for artistic purposes and not for definition.

i'm reading a great book about love. mostly it reminds me how short i fall, and i don't mind knowing. 33 years into this life and a new model is warranted.

the year is peeling itself off of me quickly. this could be the year of crucifixion. yes. oh my god please let that be it. i'm being betrayed with kisses, then crucified and then i'll descend to hell for no more than 3 days. how does time work in hell anyway? then, the rising again. the likely truth is that i'll have no idea when any of this is happening until it's well over and i'm sitting amongst friends showing them my scars as proof that although unrecognizable, i am still this girl.

this week's word is ungraceful. as if i've ever been, except maybe on horseback.

oh, love.

"think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course."

what a means of travel!

"to know the pain of too much tenderness.

to be wounded by your own understanding of love;

and to bleed willingly and joyfully."

it all sounds so romantic as an idea, and it caresses like poetry does. but when bleeding is happening, to be willing and joyful is more than a little formidable.

as connections go, this one that is morphing into a new creature is as deep as i knew a connection could be. i have allowed it to shape me and mold me and i am grateful for the chance to experience that. the process continues. quiet and surrender. quiet and surrender. quiet and surrender.

not for a payoff at the end, but for the actual adventure itself.

no line in the sand. not goodbye.