I'll take one for the other and work my way through this machine

the tongue swells and cracks in the short absence of hydration.  Three days, three years, it's all the same for the cells constructed of simplicity.  Two parts this, one part that, the language of our being mimics that of our soul.  Paradise a prison.  Humanity exists beyond the formalities of hello, goodbye and otherwise.  The complexity of exchanging pleasantries does as much to quench the thirst of a mind on fire as a cup of sea water does for amelioration of drought.



It's not starvation that brings a strong man to his knees, rather removal from the most basic of necessity.  Life breads life.  Exile, be it self induced or otherwise, results in a cognitive thirst without relief.  We must be cautious when building a cabin.  We must understand that replenishing one's cup is not a process ideal in isolation.  We must reach out our root regardless the distance between contact.  The drop of rain that falls upon our leaves is exciting not quenching.  For that patients is paramount.  Denying impulse, delaying gratification, allowing that drop to roll from our parched leaves into the soil so far away is the only sure way that it will touch our out stretched root.

perfección a través del silencio

"I'm writing again, these letters to you, not much I know.  But I'm not sleeping and you're not here, the thought stops my heart."

My day started with its typical grumble but as soon as my eyes pealed open a relief came over me until my arm stretched out in search of your body and when it wasn't there I realized that this cannot be paradise.  Utopia can exist only in your embrace.
Last night I experienced my greatest culture shock to date.  Not speaking the language, knowing the customs or shifting climates were all of little impact compared to the faces that I observe.  A hundred people in an open air bar, not more than 200m from the vastness of the ocean; there was something very odd to me about their expression.  Following 23oz of Imperial it came to me.  It hit me the way a breath of mountain air hits your lungs the first time you roll down the window on a long road trip.   100 faces and none had a digital glow.  Every human was engaged in the moment.  Silver pony tails and sun stained shoulders danced and sang as uninhibited as a nine year old let loose on the collected aftermath of a long rain storm.
My observations continue as another libation is delivered to my outstretched hand.  My initial count had this crowd at a hundred people which I now notice is not correct.   He was with her and her with him.  Those two dancing, those two singing, those two making eyes at each other in the corner and holding hands.  Body language reminiscent of a estranged lovers finally reunited after a fissure of time and distance.  No doubt a lifetime spent passing like ships in the night, seldom taking the time to appreciate their amalgamation so many years ago.
This moment is the greatest one in all of history, it is the only one that we control, it is the only one we feel, everything else is but a hope or memory.  We must take control of this blink for when the lid meets the cheek this moment is gone forever.  We posses a limited number of these blinks.  I  beseech thee, allow your gaze to fall upon those whom you hold in the highest regard before time steals your vision.  The greatest human experience is only as good as the souls you share it with; it's only a life if we live it.

LJJL

Certainty of life is that we will forever be changed by it, by those in it.
Those souls we touch, touch us.
When two souls touch
an illumination seen from space
When two souls touch  
an unacceptable separation is measured in meters.
When two souls touch
a world waits in whist
When two souls touch
an amalgamation of minds, a comfort found in reading aloud
When two souls touch
sustenance sustained sans snacks
When two souls touch
the deepest despair is distance
When two souls touch
a new life, a new light, a new love
When two souls touch.

An in-house Alchemy

A forked tongue tickles a miasmic atmosphere.  Sense of sight succumbs solemnly.  A necessary evolution where the serpent surpasses it's own strangling skin, a moment of molting.  Where it was once clear this world is now clouded.  An important stock to take note of in the face of vicissitude, No permutation is permanent.  We evolve beyond even our own skin growing and amalgamating into and beyond others.  Running from our problems will ensure that we remain asphyxiated by them.  Moving toward a solution is a far better race to run than flying from plight.  
There is necessity in the the act of dissolving of decaying and allowing the cycle of life to coagulate us once more.  I new version of our self constructed of all of its previous pieces and parts.  An ability suddenly presents itself to abandon the segments that have for some time caused a dissatisfying dissidence. In our reformation we are free to become all what we desire and shed all that shames.  We remove the scars of old skin and show the world our most brilliant scales.  A vibrant vehemence, visually vivacious and violently vituperous reincarnation of mind, body and soul.  This is the natural order of life.  Those who fight it are doomed to remain in the state of pre molting blindness, slaves to their own apprehension, prisoners to their own skin.














 


Does the caterpillar know it's destiny, does it know that flight is in it's future?

Taking flight,

Arms extend and receive the sun.  The warmth and everlasting light of such an embrace fills my cup.  Lips part and eyes narrow.  The fearful nervous anticipation dissipates as conversation flows without seam.  Intersecting interstates of tangled limbs display a road map of an interaction previously unincountered.  Minutes are months yet the clock mocks.  A painful knowledge that this perfect thing would have to end hangs like a shadow.  As we move it follows and reminds us that time is not ours, we do not own it we simply borrow it.

Finding ourselves in parking lots.  The limits we will take, the birth of an emotion.
A wonderful world it is where we are free to experience all that compels us.  Confined only to the limits of our own unnecessary timid tendencies.  Free to move free to feel.  Free to hurt and free to heal.  This dance is about more than stumbling through encounters, the purpose, to feel every bit of our most painful moments.  Without them we are safe yet lost.

We would do well to take example from those finned creatures that despite their lack of wings take attempt at flight.  Breaking free from the barrier of their own world if only for a brief moment.  When a life is spent immersed in an ocean the salt of a single tear is of no consequence but that single moment in the sun is divine.  It s why we leap.

With all the surgical sterility and accuracy of a butcher hacking the limb of next weeks special an abdominal incision is made.  An eviceration of unparalleled violence.  When the end trails are removed and replaced with a shovel load of hot coals, a new burning emptiness replaces appetite.  Wounds cauterized so as to not be fatal yet burn in such a way that death would be a welcomed event. In your absence I bite through my own tongue.  The bright red blood still lacks taste.  Life lacks levity. The vastness of the Rocky Mountains have never appeared so hideous.  Nothing feels like this... This sinking falling crashing boiling burning empty mess.

In the order of things a single embrace of such magnitude is worth a lifetime of this consequence.

My Pearl of the Stars

I saw today a vastness in a pair of pearls.  A galaxy existing between lashes.  A birth and life and death occurring between the shutter of a blink. If I could bring arbitration with death I would plead to drown in a single tear produced by the lucid truth of those windows.  In this my demise would be my finest hour.  A dimness unknown and a depth unimaginable.  As if there was a secret hidden lucent luminous lustrous light lingering upon the lowest levels of the depths of the deepest darkest sea.
Hope oh hopeful hope.  We reside within you, a world unknown. The solace of solitude severed for a certain salvation secured.  Angelic elevations of a breath unknown and a world unseen.  Perfection may be birthed in naiveté but its growth resides in expansive understanding and mutual stride.
Does intrepidity insist on isolation or can we call on collaboration from confidants?

It's time for life and living it.  It's time to take the bat from your shoulder and swing wildly into the night.  The time has come to deliver yourself from a preconceived notion of inadequacy and plow through the walls of self doubt that have formed your prison internal.  We are all  imperfect but it is in those imperfections that true beauty resides.  The complexity of life can only be eclipsed by the sheer inspirational beauty that it presents.  We have one life, one chance, one opportunity to drain the tank and show the world our resolve.  Now is the dawn of our tomorrow and it is your responsibility to embrace every painful, joyful, despicable, wonderful moment of it.  The sting of coming up short is felt only by those who took the leap, who challenged their own boundaries and in doing so created new self expectations.  This is a process, it doesn't happen all at once but for those willing to travel beyond their own comfort zone there is a reward the sheltered will never know.  This is the day of our provocation, this is our revival. 

It's late and I'm tired yet willingly I would stay awake for days just to not miss a single smile.  It's a magic glowing thing when engaged in my direction.  This tight rope that I'm on seems less of a challenge and more of a crux with each reckless step and I'd dive head first if I knew which direction was up.  There are so many things that I can never hope to understand, so many pieces of the puzzle that may never fit and forcing them will leave you sitting back admiring a work void of meaning.  Life may exist beyond the gentle stroking of these keys but that is where it is contained to at this moment.