Language

I have noticed a trend in my music choices lately. It is a prevailing trend throughout my life that I am only recently cottoning on to. It all comes down to the words.

I love the English language. The power of a beautifully constructed sentence is chilling. In the terms of what I find more powerful, I am a prose girl. Don't get me wrong, I like poetry. Just not quite the same way. Poetry is often just a little too lush and dense.

The sentences that catch me off guard enough to make me cry (ya, I cry over words) are sparse, bare and placed into space. It sits on the tongue waiting to said. To be rolled and tasted.

 (Something should be said here. It felt unfinished. Didn't it?)

Humph. I might love the English language, but my grasp of it is rudimentary. I have this ephemeral idea in my mind, and I am not sure the above post conveys what I was trying to say.

Oh well.

"I like to beholden to the great metropolitan English speech, the sea which receives tributaries from every region under heaven."

GERONIMO

I had it all planned.

Dear Book of Knowledge,
I was well prepared, did a rough draft, and all I want to do is whine and snivel. So, I will. My blog, my rules.

For five weeks every Tuesday night at work a man comes in at 9:45 and tells me the street light isn't on and he thought we were closed etc. etc.  drives me nutty. Anyway, as soon as I got to work this afternoon, I thought "I'm going to turn on the street light" so I did. Turns out I am still as dyslexic as I was yesterday. For the first time in 5 weeks the light was on and I turned it off. So, like clock work the gentleman comes in and does his obligatory whining and I feel silly. Sigh.

geronimo

Because I said I would

I am typing letters in a row to make words and I have nothing to say. And I wont try to make it funny because that just never works.

I read baby name books for fun. The are some atrocious names. Really.

I can spell atrocious but not friend without spell check. Huh.

I listen to new music over and over for about three days strait until I can sing all the lyrics.

"All animals are equal but some animals are more equal than others."

GERONIMO!!!!!!!

Time

The flow of time happens in strange rhythms. Sometimes I blink and an entire month has gone. I lost it. I can't find it, but things happened. I can remember happenings. Just not well enough for me to grasp and understand them. And then other days happen in which time separates into sections. So that when I get into bed and think back over my day I am shocked to realize that all those events didn't equal many days, just one with many times captured and crammed into 24 hours. Time flows in mystical ways.

"Time is
Too slow for those who wait,
Too swift for those who fear,
Too long for those who grieve,
Too short for those who rejoice;
But for those who love,
Time is eternity."
Henry van Dyke

GERONIMO

Beautiful things

I was looking out the window this morning when this immense overwhelming feeling of  happiness swept me. I was happy to be alive and know there is a God, and that I could love Him in a little way. This poignant feeling swamps me sometimes, but only in the morning. In the stillness that happens before the rush of time begins. It makes my bones ache.

There are many different kinds of bone aches. The ones were my bones quite literally ache and then others that happen more in my mind. God has gifted me with a responsive body. I get mind tingly when someone is pregnant. I experience an intense ache in my thumb when I read a beautiful sentence. I cry when I feel well loved.

But best of all are the morning happy aches. I feel watched and blessed when those happen.

(Look what I did. I added a picture.)

GERONIMO

Blogs are odd.

A blog is not a private diary. It can be read but, it isn't public domain in the sense that I control what I say. So how private do I get? Do I just share the ramblings on the edge of my brain, or do I get in depth? Doe s anyone care? Or is that the point? That no one should care and I just spill my guts. Huh.

Blogs are therapeutic. Just a little odd.

So great black cosmos, what do you want?

"What is more dull than a discreet diary? One might just as well have a discreet soul."

GERONIMO!

Epic

It started so well. Three days in and I fall flat on my face. Oops. I promise to do better on Friday.

I love to lay in the dark and listen to sad songs. It makes me feel alive. To empathize with pain that is not mine on that level I have to be alive.

I have nothing else to say.

 My day has been a case of epic failure.

geronimo