Naked As We Came
5:57 PM Posted In Faith , happy , language , life , moving forward , Music , Writing Edit This 0 Comments »
Lyrics have been lolling through my head on an endless record player. I speak in music because my soul is a song composed by God and I just want to sing of the beauty that is life. I could write a million songs if I just had someone to sing them. I guess that's how it always goes. I'm sorry I have been away for so long. I guess that's a good thing. Sort of.
My pulse is a drum beating to time. My lips two cymbals/symbols like fireworks on the fourth of July screaming "look at me! look at me! Here I am!" Captivating audiences under momentary bursts of flame that stand frozen for a second the fall like the rain...
My heart is a canyon carved by friction and time. The biggest cracks are filled with devotion so that the two opposing sides merge into one. Flow to me. Come to my banks and put your roots in. I'll feed you for ten thousand years and even when the sun is scorching, you my love, will be fine. Living in a reservoir so infinite that you cannot fathom hunger. Hunger. Flow to me lover, come to me and grow with me lover because the river is full and the banks are firm.
A billion words are trying to escape my soul. Like a volcano, my soul erupts in sound and fury and ink. From the end of my pen drip ideas that scurry about on the page alive. I write heartbeats. I guess the main reason my blog has been so empty is because my journal has been so full.
I am a river who's growing and flowing into the future and every person I meet drips into me, refilling and refueling my journey - adding to me so that although we are not one, we become one and though we do not walk the same path, we arrive at the same destination.
I talk to God a lot in the shower. When my hair is wet and my fingers are foamy and the steam rises to rinse the sleep out of my eyes. Everything just rises away in the heat. Everything blurs away in the cold that sometimes seeps in if someone slips into the other shower. And maybe I'm most honest with God when I'm in the shower because I have no clothes to hide behind.
Everywhere I go I feel like he's just saying the same thing. Let go. And it isn't of people or places, but of things. Let go of the money. Renounce it all. And it's strange because I don't think of myself as one who spends money obscenely, I don't spend it all that often even. Rather I feel like I'm just supposed to work and give it away and work and give it away some more. All and all, I like that idea. Except the part where I'm human and I like to be able to do what I want.
You know, I think the greatest flaw of the English language is that we capitalize I but we don't capitalize "you" or "we" which one would think are a great deal more important or at least should be. I think this in itself shows that we are self-centered.
I read about Native American Cultures that, way back when, had never heard of the first person singular. It was never "I." It was never about "I." It was all about "we" and "you" and when I think about that, I think how beautiful life must of been and I wonder if the elimination of the word eliminated the problem.
Is the word "I" a symptom or cause of the disease? je ne sais pas. The thing is, I don't like not capitalizing I because I am human. I like having things look right. I wish this wasn't the case. Maybe I should do it, just to break myself of this annoying tick. I also hate the red squiggly line that pops up whenever I misspell a word.
i am tired. time for bed.
My pulse is a drum beating to time. My lips two cymbals/symbols like fireworks on the fourth of July screaming "look at me! look at me! Here I am!" Captivating audiences under momentary bursts of flame that stand frozen for a second the fall like the rain...
My heart is a canyon carved by friction and time. The biggest cracks are filled with devotion so that the two opposing sides merge into one. Flow to me. Come to my banks and put your roots in. I'll feed you for ten thousand years and even when the sun is scorching, you my love, will be fine. Living in a reservoir so infinite that you cannot fathom hunger. Hunger. Flow to me lover, come to me and grow with me lover because the river is full and the banks are firm.
A billion words are trying to escape my soul. Like a volcano, my soul erupts in sound and fury and ink. From the end of my pen drip ideas that scurry about on the page alive. I write heartbeats. I guess the main reason my blog has been so empty is because my journal has been so full.
I am a river who's growing and flowing into the future and every person I meet drips into me, refilling and refueling my journey - adding to me so that although we are not one, we become one and though we do not walk the same path, we arrive at the same destination.
I talk to God a lot in the shower. When my hair is wet and my fingers are foamy and the steam rises to rinse the sleep out of my eyes. Everything just rises away in the heat. Everything blurs away in the cold that sometimes seeps in if someone slips into the other shower. And maybe I'm most honest with God when I'm in the shower because I have no clothes to hide behind.
Everywhere I go I feel like he's just saying the same thing. Let go. And it isn't of people or places, but of things. Let go of the money. Renounce it all. And it's strange because I don't think of myself as one who spends money obscenely, I don't spend it all that often even. Rather I feel like I'm just supposed to work and give it away and work and give it away some more. All and all, I like that idea. Except the part where I'm human and I like to be able to do what I want.
You know, I think the greatest flaw of the English language is that we capitalize I but we don't capitalize "you" or "we" which one would think are a great deal more important or at least should be. I think this in itself shows that we are self-centered.
I read about Native American Cultures that, way back when, had never heard of the first person singular. It was never "I." It was never about "I." It was all about "we" and "you" and when I think about that, I think how beautiful life must of been and I wonder if the elimination of the word eliminated the problem.
Is the word "I" a symptom or cause of the disease? je ne sais pas. The thing is, I don't like not capitalizing I because I am human. I like having things look right. I wish this wasn't the case. Maybe I should do it, just to break myself of this annoying tick. I also hate the red squiggly line that pops up whenever I misspell a word.
i am tired. time for bed.
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