still: life

the deepest darkest place in my being a place I once dwelled too often is dark, but the realization has come that it is still light with its many shades of grey, a lot of black, and some white but still: light I have often asked as many before me have: why is there suffering? […]

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the mechanical wind is very, very loud (and freezing balls)

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my dreams dance at night… the characters: my loved ones, my friends, my subliminal criminals who come forth to tell a tale that’s been long written with rewrites as we speak with pen strokes of our choices that lie upon the paper that is our breath…

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The carousel spins To a halt between the sheets That has held our ride

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The cup filled me With tea that eases my soul Tonight, good indeed

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Hurricane downgrade Day One not so bad.  Is this The calm before the…

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