Adventure!

Everyone has a church creed.
Everyone is just pooling for your passion.

I don't know where my alliances lie/lay.
I don't know which call to action I'm supposed to join.

Everyone wants to rebuild the world with their ideas on top.
The question is, which ones are worth living for.
The question is, which ones are worth dying for.

And I am caught thinking every cause is noble.

Just call me Hero.

Some days I feel tucked under the wrong blanket.
The wrong shade of blue.
The right shade of everything else.

Did you know it would take two-thousand years of rain to refill the Great Plain aquifer back to the levels it used to be at?

The river that runs wild. The river that runs dry. Oceans. Seas. Storms. Rain. Days of grey and days of mourning. The way the wind blows. The way the leaves fall.

Nature.
Undeniably, powerfully, nature.

Today I am mountain.
Tomorrow, a volcano.

Check it out.
Watch me explode.

The heartbeat of the city is carried in a million footsteps zooming off to their own private destinations. arrhythmic. Out of sync. But in it in that you're out of it, creating it.

Pen strokes on paper. Half-wished thoughts. Whole-hearted questions.

My brain isn't really producing at the moment.
Just thought I would say hello.
Just thought I'd say something.

It's better than silence.
XO

It's been too long.
Northeastern is amazing.
I guess all I really needed was a little direction...

There are days where I find myself wandering off the radar screen and out into the great Unknown. Remember the days when your backyard was bigger than the world? When the world was anything you wanted it to be? When a spoon and six hours could get you half-way to China?

Sometimes, I still think in Red and Yellow. Sunset colors. I was looking for so many thing I think I've finally found them.

There are always picnic benches at the wrong part of the walk and never a trash can when you need one. You have to carry the memories a long while before you can put them down. Released.

Started reading Romeo and Juliet, again. Third time. Remember all those things everyone was saying. I think my favorite interpretation is the one where this is really a story about God. And I think I like that one just because then the story makes sense. Somewhat.

The storm has moved off the horizon.
The waters are calm.
All you need to do is put your feet in.
All you need to do is dive.

Inside the Fish

My hair in my face,

The look my mother gave my father,

The way our dog barked and

The thumping of her tail.

People and places and moments

Come and go from me.

One after another, after another,

Until the next comes then goes.

The reflection behind the reflection.

Standing, staring, waiting.

The smell of rosemary and ginger

(Always in the kitchen, always during winter),

The faces of strangers I remember from my youth,

The voice of the peddler out on Boylston Street,

The way I sign my name -- just

Like my sister.

Not knowing who I am or

Where to go. Whether or not

I should say hello
Or goodbye or

Nothing

At all.

The stagnant silences,

The road I took to get here,

Wondering how many times I've

Slid my feet across these stones,

How everything builds

One on top of another

Slow and Steady.

The dirt at the bottom of a mountain.

The dirt at the top.

Wondering, if there is any difference.

Not knowing who I am

Or if it matters.

The note he gave me, still in my wallet.

The apology he skipped, still lingering on.

The taste of fall in the morning

The taste of toothpaste in the evening

My aunts and uncles and grandparents

And all those that came before and with and after.

The prayer you pray alone.

The prayer you pray at church.

The prayer you pray for your family.

The prayer you pray for your friends.

How really, they're not that different.

How really, no one wants to be alone.

How really, no one is.