textures

Sometimes you deserve a hot bath and a night to write - even if when you finally get there you stare at the blank page for twenty minutes before anything at all comes to mind that fits into these boxes called words.

I think about the cat woman downstairs - I think that there are so many people in this world, you better not risk being lonely. They may just forget about you. And I really do wish she would have come out of her door soon enough to get my bread before it went bad. But instead she stayed in there - which kind of bugs me.

I think about John Muir, and how everybody needs places to pray in where nature can give strength. Today we had a lesson on the difference between our thoughts and our actions - I liked the comment from the woman with the beautiful jade and pearl necklace - about how each part of us gives a certain energy to the aura of the whole. so much could be at peace if we all thought of the whole.

People and their questions . . . enough to make me scream, but whatever.

Most of the time I have a strong dislike for the grapevine and anything associated, being part of a checklist, redundancy of mistakes, feeling like a mooch (otherwise known as a smooge), most personal memories of provo, the smell of urine, peter brienholt and jon schmidt and any other so-called musician that could have been substituted in the conversation I found myself having today in the hallway about the Browns and Josh Groban and "don't worry, I'm sure we'll be working together soon" - gag me. But I do very much enjoy homemeade pesto artichoke heart sundried tomato pizza, deep sighs to stretch the lungs, most things blue, the luxory of a good nights sleep, thick conversations that inspire, photographs that are endearing, the feeling of calm when you pray, and the significance that enters your day when you know you have committed everything to Him.