People mistake writing with bravery, but I do not suppose there is much courage there. It is quite the opposite sometimes.
There is a freeing sensation beneath all the weight. There is a knowing that you hold on to as long as you hold on to the child within you. The child always knows something, the child takes life as it is but also with an underlying understanding of the comedy of it all, the unrealness of it.
We are not what we do, we are not what we eat, we are not who we see, we are not the dreams we have, we are not the time we waste. Or are we?
This is for the givers, the doers free of charge, the lantern carriers when all are screaming “it’s too dark”. This is for the flame bearers, the fire breathers, and the fearless among the crowd. Why am I writing about you? Well, because I like to think of myself as one of you, although some […]
My arms are fire and my head is set free. I close my eyes and I ask, one question becomes a thousand, and I am back at square one. No real answers. But then I sense the flame and it pushes me face first inward, into my deepest fears. The memories, the inadequacies, the needs […]
I wish I could write better stories, ones that would sway you into that parallel world of meaning, of clear beginnings and rightful ends. I wish I could provide you with mental images of severe beauty, the kind that moves your entire being, yet still manages to anchor you in an aesthetic serenity. I could […]
Story upon story, my mind plays and skips across roads and thoughts less traveled. But then again, the roads I have travelled keep on teaching me, grilling my stamina and testing my willingness to accept the gloriousness of being so small in such a brilliantly huge world. My heart is heavy sometimes, and my choking […]