Journal
I saw a deer in the cemetery today. Laying under a tree, eating berries from a bush. As I walked by, it stared at me, probably upset that I removed the silence it was feeling — the silence I often seek in the same spot. There was something beautiful here that I can't put my finger on. Too beautiful a moment for a photo.
Oh sh*t is that a snake?
To accept that there is no destination can be truly a difficult task. It starts with feeling hopeless, lonely, suffocating, crazy, colorless. Then you get over that discomfort, that feeling of knowing, it becomes comfortable, loving, free,
The air you want to breathe
To accept that there is no destination can be truly a difficult task. But that's how you end up with the best stories.
Every time you walk down a road you need to walk down it twice. The first pass you're navigating; the second pass you're noticing. The trick is to do both at the same time. Sometimes I get pretty lost...
When it happens there's no music in the background. It's raw, undramatized, unadulterated. It's a silence that breathes through the body, breaks the chaos. Something that makes you no longer crave that quiet room, something that makes you smother that silence.
Are they just shadows
of who he used to be
Shooting stars across a blanket
Is it his blanket?
The lights show an asphalt path
He's seen this blanket for years
A shadow of a smile spreads as the path greets him as the familiar yet rusted man
A shadow opens in the darkness
It's not a child that steps out
A blink
Did you see it?
It's rarely hidden. It's usually in plain sight at the edge of a porch, a balcony, a parking lot, and the only thing it asks of you is thirty seconds of attention.