Sunday, July 22, 2001
I am deeply satisfied with life.
I could go through a list, telling you of
everything that is good with my life, and I could go
through an equally long list about what is wrong with my
life and how I’ve learned to deal with it. But I won’t.
It'd be boring and would not hold the essence of what I
want to tell you (lists kinda tend to suck the fun out of
I am just happy. I can (partially) see what my
future holds and I do love it. I love every second of
what’s to come.
Reaching out to embrace the rhythm.
Reaching out to embrace whatever may come.
I embrace my desire to
feel the rhythm, to feel connected enough to step aside and
weep like a widow
to weep like a widow, to fathom the power, to witness the
to bathe in the fountain,
to swing on the spiral of our divinity and still be a
I don’t know what’s come over me. It seems that everything
that has been bothering me lately, the little stuff, is
again gone away. It’s weird. I spend one weekend with
Lindsay, completely alone, completely in love, and
completely in awe of everything she does, and I feel like
nothing else is important.
Then I remember school, and work, and family, and friends,
and life, and fate, and god, and music (not necessarily in
that order), and it all becomes important to me again.
Only this time it’s not jumbled; it’s not as if it weighs
me down. It’s not like I’m trying to find my place or
trying to find other peoples’ places or other shit like
that; I just see things clearly.
One of the many useful things to know when you know
Lindsay. She never really lays anything out for you, but
when you’re with her, everything is laid out.
No sex jokes.
That wasn’t funny. You’re mean and I’m not talking to you
for a few days.