Friday, 27 February 2015

Journal # 02.27.15

Friday. Hope comes in funny forms. Losing the idea of a maid. Grabbing a broom and a mop. The mind fascinates when running or riding the bike. Oh the visions I have. The heart pumps harder, oxygen goes to the head. All ennui falls out the window. The sun, after a few days obscured, becomes a delight. The skin opens up its pores like a flower opens petals. Some rain in a drought may just do the same. And then the dreaded phone rings. And yes, the dreaded phone alerts. The dreaded alarm. Or the dreaded quiet, dark, descent into nightmares. No. Dear friend. This is not the end. Waking after a little hellish torment, is always so much brighter to be free. Take your bones for a walk and to dinner. Propose yourself a plan to make that dream come alive. Hold on to the blueprints, laminate them, plaster them on the walls of your mind. Then get to work. Keep the spirited sense of urgency! And when the fruits fall and are not anyone's delight? When the fruits fall and rot on the ground? There, there. This is not your concern. Keep taking sun and rain! Do not be sad for long. Let the fruits die. Another harvest is soon and sure to come! Keep giving yourself over to your passion. With urgency now, my dear, with urgency. I see you! You are a big part of this.