recollections of the fall.

walking from my car to your door in the cool autumn rain, might have been one of the most beautiful experiences i've had in years. that and.. waking up to the warmth of your eyes.

Addendum: Retracting but Not.

I am retracting my statement on potentially considering the notion of cookies and bartending.

and not because it isn't a viable option or that it isn't what i want....

but in actually its not what i need... at least the moment.

i figure that one day i might come to the conclusion to make a promise... an agreement that is lasting, until then i can unfold, float, wait, until it comes to me...

i figure one day i'll find my own bakery and hide there forever.
until then.

http://ri-kon-dahyt.blogspot.com/2009/10/life-recap-what-she-found-out-last.html

thoughts on running towards the sun.

Yesterday, I realized that I never read your words. The liner notes that would have made you the john to my alice. The secrets that could have only been understood had we made each line form a poem. The sequence of letters and numbers that would have made the answer to our equation correct.

Nevertheless, looking at the lines makes me wish I had not finished that line of reasoning.

Using the concepts to connect each smaller piece to a larger thought on a not so blank canvas.

And yet for any understanding or shared connections the affirmatives never made our answer the truth.

and maybe that's not such a bad thing.
maybe it is.

at the end of the day, it doesn't matter much anymore.
all i can do is finish reading and hope i figure it out one day.

with or without us.

the morning after....

after the haze of last night... the morning after is always a contemplative one.... it makes me reflect.... makes me think of the past, the future... and how it all fits....

in the midst of these thoughts someone asked me today what i wanted.... what i've always wanted....

in it's process i couldn't help but think of how i got here... nascent notions, progression, the inherent loss tied to holding on.. and it's perpetual cycle....

the only conclusion i've always come to is, i don't regret any decision i've made up unto this point.....

and yet.... still... at the end of the day i would trade it all for a best friend...

a walk... an extended conversation... an unending dialogue... an ellipsis...

a continuation that didn't lead to empty cul-de-sacs and unsurmountable walls....

maybe she was right, i do hate repeating myself.
maybe he was right... maybe i should make a list.

life recap... what i found out last night? =/

Disclaimer: for Miss. Hillman....

I was reminded again last night of the demise of my last franchise.... I guess empires built on sand don't fare comfortably near sea water (makes mental note)*.

Later on in the day in the process of moving things I was told Betty Crocker lost her show and is now set to 6am non-syndicated public access programing.... that of which is apparently ending, because Los Angeles can't afford public access... the good news was she is still allowed to cakebake on her own time. I guess with this new found unemployment I should look into the service industry...

baking cookies and bartending perhaps? =/

funny how so much can change in an instant.... i guess everything comes out as it should.

time without consequence

Searching.
Knowing that it’s never been the same…
since the first
Time.
The uneven balance of a solid cylinder. It’s beam holding us into place.
Deafening
reverberations piercing the speed of sound… the stillness of his voice.
Blinding
lights refracting the spectrum beneath us.
We float. dancing. drowning into collage of sound.
Its pitch pervading the space between our silence until it held us all together.
Cradling.
Like a choir we whispered in waves.
Undulating up and down as we crept into a crescendo…
swaying as the wave overcame us.
Running.
Into the light. Into our moment.
A promise forever held between us. In that moment of time.
Still Searching.
Always knowing that it will never be the same as then.
And yet beam awaits…
a broken door that is always open,
if only for the reminder of that night,
if only for us as we were then…
for us, as we are now.

Persephone

You were
are the iconic stain in my loins
Proliferating me into presence.
Demeter's progeny
the embodiment being me, and therefore we
are the preface
the rose colored lens
Obscuring my point of view.
Glue smearing, cementing what
He, she could have been
What I now will be.
As if the words have not, cannot, and will not had been forcibly removed from it’s index
and burned from a codex of concepts only to be obstructed
from it's prologue without any addendum.
Into you I turn my limbs into salves
To soothe your battered hands
As you render me into molds
Of alabaster and marble.
The past, a demarcation of a promise
I, a stain in time.
Assilmated into the underworld
Out of your wilted resignation.
Out of a misguided protection.
A self deprecating, slight destruction
Only to have us wonder
Is there all there is?
You were the chisel, the hammer
Creating palaces out of step-stools, foot markers, and placements
Whispering my path into silent ears
Guiding me unto unsteady pedestals
With no foresight or forethought to bare the weight of my fall.
As you carried me with your words,
built burdens of worlds within my womb
I fell,
still fall
Without you to catch me.