little things…
life or something like it
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a branch snapping in the night
photo by loveblushfever (c)
blue day
photo by loveblushfever
january blues all beat up cold tired restless and bored what i’d do for just a little sun, a little warmth, the sound of snow melting and the slapping of a skipping rope in the driveway instead it’s the snapping of branches in the cold dark night, the man across the street who works early and wakes me at 4 in the morning as he scrapes frost from his front windshield.
god i hate winter.
passages
photo by loveblushfever (c)
reclamation
Small things are gigantic. A heart on fire in the middle of the ocean. One lonely tree on a hilltop. An old couple holding hands at the market. A clock on the mantle counting down the moments.
I thrive on pretense and assumption, on hope and yearning. Some corner of meager existence, where things make sense in a small way, and little things are just little things, with a spill or two along the way.
Comfortably weary and restless. I hear there’s only so much time. And sometimes everything just has to be slow like snow falling. And sometimes there is no reason, just an idea.
A concentrated mediocrity. Boiled down, reduced, reclaimed, returned. A lifetime isn’t enough. There’s never enough time or hunger to go all the way round.
But to need a little less. To let in a little more. Of the world. Of you. So put on your face. And your dancing shoes.
Life waits for no one.
-loveblushfever
H. Jackson Brown Jr
Isak Dineson
“There is a time for departure even when there’s no certain place to go.”
Tennessee Williams
OBLIVION #3
photo by loveblushfever (c)
Breeze coming in the window. Quiet thoughts. Simple, unadorned images of faint, yet bright memories drifting into and out of view. What we have to say versus what we have to tell. Stories have all kinds of beginnings. I sift through fragments of thoughts, ideas of things, and hold on a little longer to some kind of meaning that continues to elude me. It feels like I haven’t slept in years. My keys are still in the door. I’ve left the coffee on all day. Laundry’s still in the washing machine. I’m holding on to the edge of the desk half off my chair. Either I’m terrified or I’m indecisive. Regardless, it is the end of something. I feel that whatever all of this has been is cascading to an end point where I don’t have to do this anymore, where there is no will to put myself through all the drama any longer. It feels at once relieving, warm and good, and absolutely horrifying. Anything that ends is this way. I’m not prepared to embark, to push away from the shore and just float along, no direction, just stumbling through, on undercurrents, fumes. Just get on with it. Inhale.
idea #3
photo by loveblushfever (c)
there is no such thing as partial investment
not when it comes to living
you either breath in and out or…
but do it with some noise
with bells on
in full colour
and whistling
while sucking a lemon
all while some bored god or two pulls your hair
quotes for today
If time is not real, then the dividing line between this world and eternity, between suffering and bliss, between good and evil, is also an illusion. -Herman Hesse
Nothing is more important than reconnecting with your bliss. Nothing is as rich. Nothing is more real. -Deepak Chopra
Life is a pilgrimage. The wise man does not rest by the roadside inns. He marches direct to the illimitable domain of eternal bliss, his ultimate destination. -Swami Sivananda
Clocks slay time… time is dead as long as it is being clicked off by little wheels; only when the clock stops does time come to life. -William Faulkner
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life or something like it 