You Think You Want To Know Something,

Loss Takes Up Inside Of Everything Sooner Or Later And Eats Right Through It.

What Has Happened To Our Ability To Dwell In The Unknowing, To Live Inside A Question And Coexist With The Tensions Of Uncertainty? Where Is Our Willingness To Incubate Pain And Let It Birth Something New? What Has Happened To Patient Unfolding, To Endurance? These Things Are What Form The Ground Of Waiting.

It Only Meant That My Natural Inclination Was To Draw My "energy" From Within Instead Of Seeking It Outside Myself, Plus My Mom Was An Introvcert, And So Were A Lot Of Normal People. The Problem Was I Was Shy On Top Of That. And We All Know How The World Loves A Shy Introvert.

Someone Who Thinks Death Is The Scariest Thing Doesn't Know A Thing About Life.

Now And Then Sprays Of Rain Flew Over And Misted Our Faces. Every Time I Refused To Wipe Away The Wetness. It Made The World Seem So Alive To Me. I Couldn't Help But Envy The Way A Good Storm Got Everyone's Attention.