round the rockwell road

i want to keep opening my eyes.  those that belong to my heart. my soul. my spirit.  so that i will never miss out in seeing the truth that wants me staring right at it's face.  the breakthrough awaiting to be claimed.  the love longing to be lived.

an outpour

there are times when i can't explain why things happen the way they do.  why a sudden turn of events suddenly become a source of liberation instead of inhibition.  and then i remember that all i did wasn't DOING anything at all.  it was just sitting there in front of the mirror begging with my eyes closed.

rain cleans ink blot stains

i got rained on today on the way back from lunch break.  i didn't realize that the rain would pour down so strong because the sun was out when we left the office. it felt cold but walking under the rain felt like a spark of life.  the wind was hitting my face and the drops drenched my hair.  it poured over my wounds the ones that opened last night and made me realize what i want to do.  

the leaves of pages i've written my life soaked and stains of ink blots run down the story woven. rain can clean.  can refresh.  dust can be swept away.  

breakfast epiphanies

i realized this morning that i like eating breakfast especially when the morning is cloudy and slightly tinged with rain.  breakfast is peaceful and full of discoveries even after a painful night of emotional excavation.  apple pie on my tongue with the salty taste of sausage is a beautiful conflict and sometimes i wish i can stand other faces of conflicts like that sensation. 

unfortunately i am not that whole yet but i'm getting there.

hand in your hand.  

heart in your heart.  

a little bit like the embrace 

of maple on sausage.