This is a post on everything Sometimes, I don't like feeling like a human. I like feeling extraterrestrial. I like transcending time I like not labeling, like the punctual brains e.e cummings labeled (As much as he hated labeling) They deserved a chain of signifiers. I like slipping away from the imminently practical And taunting them with freedom Like a 5-year old Knowing he's not supposed to And wondering why. Is it the minutes labeling life? the years? Or is it the immeasurable, Unascertainable Sigh she sighs when at long, long last Every deep breath and quiet kiss Falls under the expanse of time. And I wonder like Dickens and Twain And every person struggling to write If perhaps there's something larger than the force to die And if perhaps this something's in the sigh Dear Reader, (dear self), when you are whittled down to the essentials with all superfluous distraction removed; when, as a tiny speck in awful wonder, you stand with nothing in hand but raw emotion and bare humanity; while in this glorious and terrifying moment you exist, know this. In the eyes of your creator; you're enough. With this knowledge: seek reverence, show affection, practice virtue, conceptualize perfection, and when, by sheer fortune, those rare and delicate moments surface, let gratitude lend you the ability to perceive and embrace them. And as you embrace them find the depth of emotion necessary to know the authentic, hard-working, unquenchable joy of truth coursing through your veins, filling up your lungs, and flowing through your soul. This concludes my weekly posting for the year of 2019. Thank you for being here.
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I'm a Hoosier. I like the outdoors. Taxes are my job. I write for a living. This Blog
Writing my way to an adult life of minimalism, sustainability, and joy rooted in Truth. I'm learning, unlearning, and relearning.
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