be random what is now when is then where is email who i am how it is why it is leave a note? share me, share you make me smile thank you other journals (of course I should be sleeping) (what's life got to do with it?) about me (too much to know at once) friend? (tic tic tic, toc) BE MY GUEST (BOOK) << MISSING �SOMETHING? >> the bottom line who can when i had the time the first of december (has another song) what i do < ? me # > < ? harrychapin # > < ? Random Acts of Journaling # > < ? Poetic Voices # > < ? The Write Club # > < ? Nights Awake # > < ? Fluid # > < ? Adopted # > < ? Childlike # > < ? Poets-Muse # > < ? Five Hundred # > < ? As You Wish # > temporary place holder ()))CRAYON-BOX)))> published blogmad! varb? �2015 CANDOR COMMUNICATIONS IF YOU WANT TO USE THE WORDS FOR ANY REASON TALK TO ME |
missing pieces feeling lost, wondering why do we just carry on when we forget to sing I thought I uploaded another few entries here, but maybe I was mistaken or maybe I was somewhere else or in a dream or lost in some place or maybe I did and they were lost to cyber space... anyway, I have this strange feeling, not so much like I've already been here before or done this before, but more like I've already done something here before and the space that contained it now contains this... perhaps a parallel universe phenomenon happened... I can only hope that the balance is maintained, unless it would be better for it to be unbalanced for a while... it only takes a moment to feel this way, but the moment can last a lifetime (and on into the vast beyond)... and sometimes I forget I am still lost in the land of the mostly dead in many ways and parts, or at least some parts of me are, where obscurity is as natural as rain and the candor is disguised by babble for too many thoughts flow at once to be clearly recorded individually... so rather than be lost, they all flow in bits and pieces together awaiting the one who can see and separate the various rivers the ultimately must flow to their own seas... I seem to be doing this a lot in this lifetime... this waiting for the one thing... but then, that is what I came into this life for, so what else is there to do but enjoy all I can along the way as I wait... search?... I have, always do, in every way I can, sometimes more actively than others... and I know that I'll not rest until I find the one... it is the dream I dream always, asleep and awake, no matter what else may be life for the moment... but the constant craving and the agony of waiting and the searching is not the focus of my writing most of the time because repeating the thoughts and feelings too often might bring a stale, stilted, even jaded coating to them... like a callous that comes from rubbing a certain spot too many times for too long... no, far be it for me, one who will not close a door on any positive experience or memory, inadvertently create a barrier around memories and emotions or dreams... so I wander this way and that, here, there, and everywhere, rambling one about whatever comes to mind... and sometimes, sadly and absent mindedly, I do forget to sing... but I do remember when the music came from wooden boxes strung with silver wire... before the machine took over... and that is ultimately what writing is all about for me, remembering, and celebrating the songs each moment of life can inspire... so whatever might have been, here or wherever, this remains... may it blend with whatever will be... and may you, in your own way, find harmony... listening to Pink Floyd, Wish You Were Here and the Moody Blues, Seventh Sojourn previous - - - - - - - - next - - - - - - - - comment? - - - - - - - -
I love you all for coming... for reading all these words for every click feels like more love (I know that sounds absurd) if I could only tell you... one thing more tonight I'd say I wish you could come home with me and be my friends for life |