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I've been dreaming upside down.
Days float by, little butterflies in the air, I can't seem to grab hold of them, always just a little too high.
I'm so very happy these days. So very much in love with me, my life, and the people who want to share it with me. Everything seems far-off and from far-away you can't see the cracks, the holes, the wrinkles on the surface. From fair away, everything is perfect. Everything is perfect when you slow down and back off. My biggest problem is I get too close, too involved and then I think and stew on them. I don't know how not to think.
I suppose I'd rather think too much than too little, but sometimes curiousity and emotion are like the match and the fuse and all the rest of the time you're just waiting for the big explosion. I don't really know. I don't even know if I can accurately examine myself, my life.
There's something about the quiet and the smell of snow and the people too. The people and their vivid colors, popping up off the snow, three dimensional and alive. Ahhh. I don't really know what I've been thinking these days. I don't even know if I've had time to think except in the context of conversations.
And then sometimes I get to thinking too much again about love and life and purpose and I get filled with so many thoughts that I turn inward to that place deep within. It isn't a dark place, just far back, distant. And you can't really tell that you've gone there because you lose a certain consciousness, a certain connection to the real world and just wander about inside yourself wondering which way to go and all the while the Chesire Cat sits there, smiling.
It's like those times when you stumble upon some great line in a book and have to stop reading for a moment because you can't believe someone could know you that well or could write something so beautiful. The story doesn't stop, it lives without you while your gone, but you, you stop living for a moment, a great pause in the unpausable, and then when you continue on again its as if it never happened. But you know it did. The world stopped for a moment and you were the only one to notice.
Well, I'm running on coffee-shop thoughts. My eyes are starting to blur and I have to go read some more. Wordsworth is brilliant.
XO
Days float by, little butterflies in the air, I can't seem to grab hold of them, always just a little too high.
I'm so very happy these days. So very much in love with me, my life, and the people who want to share it with me. Everything seems far-off and from far-away you can't see the cracks, the holes, the wrinkles on the surface. From fair away, everything is perfect. Everything is perfect when you slow down and back off. My biggest problem is I get too close, too involved and then I think and stew on them. I don't know how not to think.
I suppose I'd rather think too much than too little, but sometimes curiousity and emotion are like the match and the fuse and all the rest of the time you're just waiting for the big explosion. I don't really know. I don't even know if I can accurately examine myself, my life.
There's something about the quiet and the smell of snow and the people too. The people and their vivid colors, popping up off the snow, three dimensional and alive. Ahhh. I don't really know what I've been thinking these days. I don't even know if I've had time to think except in the context of conversations.
And then sometimes I get to thinking too much again about love and life and purpose and I get filled with so many thoughts that I turn inward to that place deep within. It isn't a dark place, just far back, distant. And you can't really tell that you've gone there because you lose a certain consciousness, a certain connection to the real world and just wander about inside yourself wondering which way to go and all the while the Chesire Cat sits there, smiling.
It's like those times when you stumble upon some great line in a book and have to stop reading for a moment because you can't believe someone could know you that well or could write something so beautiful. The story doesn't stop, it lives without you while your gone, but you, you stop living for a moment, a great pause in the unpausable, and then when you continue on again its as if it never happened. But you know it did. The world stopped for a moment and you were the only one to notice.
Well, I'm running on coffee-shop thoughts. My eyes are starting to blur and I have to go read some more. Wordsworth is brilliant.
XO
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