The passionate soul calls like a moth to the flame, bringing us close to the brink where we vibrate with the intensity to fly, or fall. It’s basic, instinctual, carnal, and beautiful.
It’s hardest to scrape out of the darkness when all you hear are voices screaming down. Sometimes you need a helping hand, some footsteps in the sand, a light to guide you. And other times you close your eyes and run, trusting the world to keep spinning and keep you firmly riveted to the ground.
I wish I learned how to juggle when I was young, a good skill for anyone to have. When you drop the ball you just dust it off, pick up a new one and keep things rolling. A wonderful philosophy and logic to apply to life.
My dreams have been running rampantly through my life, which always makes me uncomfortable. Whenever you dream about what’s happening instead of what could happen, it’s the harbinger of insanity. Pretty soon I’ll be muttering about butterflies and chasing tinfoil tumbleweeds across the kitchen wearing nothing but socks. Keeps the legs warm, you know.
A constant ear, a gentle touch, a whispered kiss—these things nourish me. I’m convinced that there’s deeper meaning within the secrets we try so desperately to hide. Only on release of ourselves or to each other can we ever reach enlightenment.
There’s so much magic in the world, so many possibilities, so many stars to gaze and mountains to conquer. In the end you're either remembered or forgotten. Good intentions and careful planning are like holding the ground to avoid a centrifugal ride into outer space. You'll never know it is one hell of a ride until you let go.
