i will write on one side of the page only
and it can be someone else’s problem
to figure out where the paper will come from
creative conundrum
Tag: inspiration
trip to the mall
why should the act of wrapping two polycarbonate (read: plastic) pens in a brown envelope
and securing them with care and a piece of red tape
when no wrappings were required
be viewed as a new-age-post-sale-customer-retention-luxury-value gimmick?
should we not stretch ourselves beyond the ordinary everyday
to make the seemingly mundane seem less so?
~
the bright signs and well-lit displays
I might previously have seen as being pointlessly materialistic are now
easily, breathtaking reminders of the beauty of human ingenuity.
~
we will stop at nothing.
the fact that we can do it,
is reason enough to perform an act
isn’t it?
life’s steady trickle
there’s almost nothing that can’t be dissolved
by life’s steady trickle
as it falls over the illusions
we create for ourselves
~
a stiff body indicates a stiff soul
cold finders indicate a need to bring one self together
~
we’ve always been working with an iffy landscape,
of treacherous peaks and temperamental valleys
nothing we build lasts for long
~
it becomes easier to escape the noise when there is a lot of it
easier to find oneself when buried under a mountain of change and uncertainty
easier to fall off the cliffs and realize that our falls are not unsupported
~
it takes strength to pull aside the drapes to let sunlight in
it takes strength to pull aside the habit from our faces to let divinity in
but we are awfully glad that we have
Coming home
- Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com
The view outside is so clear now that we’ve cleaned the windows.
The silence this spare room offers at late hours despite the near-constant sound of tires gripping road, engines conbusting outside, is like the sanctuary of my consciousness despite the constant traffic in my mind.
~
I feel like who we really are cannot be suppressed, even if the environment and circumstances change. Here I am, years later, sitting at the windowsill, writing in this journal and looking out, and in.
I think I’ll always find my windowsill no matter where I go.
May there be many more quiet nights like these.
nor of the west 