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As the Sun Rises |
The bedclothes — a map of my restlessness.
08:54 on August 3, 2011
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Are you waiting for me there? |
Even after all this time, I still find myself ambushed by your absence.
15:42 on March 18, 2010
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My kingdom for a ship |
Let's sail to the edge of the world, where the stars greet the sea!
19:58 on December 10, 2009
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At the Shore |
Their eyes were wet with knowing, and all about them the trees wept a shower of silver stars.
14:27 on August 26, 2009
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Sound of Summer |
It's a cool summer evening, filled with the songs of newly emerged cicadas.
a cicada shell:
it sang itself
utterly away
- Matsuo Basho
20:28 on July 14, 2009
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Numbers |
I have been unemployed for 2439 days. During that time, I've applied to over 4000 jobs, had 3 job interviews, and 0 job offers. I'm giving myself 119 days to change this.
18:33 on July 5, 2009
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I will become stone |
我 想 没 耳 没 心, 变 石头
- River Tam
01:15 on June 3, 2009
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Memory |
New guitar strings too stiff under my fingertips, the warmth of the wood against my bare arm, the air thick with the scent of beeswax candles, snow whooshing against the windows, your voice, smiling.
I've lost so many things since then, foolishly abandoned others, silly dreams, all silly dreams.
03:10 on April 1, 2009
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Perspective |
I am forbidden nothing, yet there is nothing I can have.
20:19 on March 22, 2009
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The Naming of the Trees |
I awake, and find myself walking barefoot through a birch wood forest, the ground a cool, viridian blanket of moss. The moon is so bright, so clear, I yearn to embrace it's shining face. The trees bend low and lift me high above their starry crowns, where fireflies ebb and flow like waves on the sea. I reach for the clouds, the moon, the stars. I close my eyes and whisper all my secrets to the trees.
15:42 on March 17, 2009
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Haiku, revisited |
The deep night softens,
Shadowy beauty stirs,
The moon burns with light.
Grey, misty rain falls,
Lush, verdant landscapes emerge,
Sleeping flowers stir.
Little leaves reaching
toward the sun, confident
in their sweet greenness.
19:07 on March 3, 2009
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Afterward |
After the funeral, we washed dishes. As I dried the red plastic bowl, etched with lines from use and age, I was 8 years old again. Summer vacation, picking vegetables from gramma's garden. Glorious days filled with happiness and kindness and wisdom only a gramma can share.
05:22 on December 9, 2003
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Visiting



postsecret
tastespotting
Encyclopedia of Arda
Spinning
LotR Complete Recordings
De/Vision: Noob
Bell X1: Flock
Reading

Watching
Battlestar Galactica
Farscape
Spirited Away
ChungKing Express
Tasting
Strawberry
4 yr. aged Gouda
aged Oolong tea
Wishing
I could find a job.
I could see the stars.
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