Escape to the deepest world

Sometimes, exclusion is a good thing. I'd prefer not to be lured into acceptance, to find vanity and delusion there. A frown or sarcastic remark may contain more treasure than the smile of some fake resting face. A wound in season is a most faithful friend, so please, intimidate my pride with a critical gaze.

And then we all someone to look into our eyes and see something that can't be nor given and then speak an unimaginable hope of a life based upon these . that never would have been of unless someone who gave a damn cared to look passthe way you dress or your ability to impress people too narcissistic to notice you breathe the same air they do. If you smile at me, do it in the darkness where I jump at the sight of such of blatant defiance because what reason is there to smile in darkness. If you make me laugh, do so when self-pity is the coping mechanism and you risk hitting a funny bone in my heart. A funny bone in the heart--what strange thing to say--an accidental nudge of the heart that inflicts pain, but also strikes a hidden nerve, producing a reaction that will burst out whether you will it to or not. Give me more of these. When you hit a nerve, you know you've alive.

Ever notice how trees in the fall resemble synapses of a brain?How poetically they were created. Tell me, still oak, what message do you bring for the earth? What signal from the clouds do your diligent branches bring? How is it that walking past you is like walking past an associate who you secretly wish was a brother. You can't freely hug someone like that but sharing space with them is comforting enough. Existing together is harmonious enough. Having complementary appreciation is not offensive, but comforting when it hurts to smile. And when it hurts to smile, show me beauty I can't understand, beauty and love that won't be controlled. Let me feel powerless in the arms of something terrible I can trust, something I'm tempted to flee from. If you're not tempted to flee from it, it may not be love.

Let love be to die for.

Please spare me from the frustration of a disappointed dreamer, determined to discover an identity worth loving somewhere over the rainbow, bathing in the rain clouds, pouring out affection without error. No, let love come by accident, like a left hook from someone you never imagined could fight, like a flower appeared to have bloomed and then, turns into a moth the hue of a sunset and takes flight. A moth! --most unusual because most people don't like those! But who ever saw the hue of a sunset?

Breathe, take the hand of courage.

I often stutter from the excitement of a new wonder, and I forget to breathe. Then the sun helps me to taste a new joy before I utter it, before I seek to share it. Intimacy with self. I'll breathe it in, and remember the first time a new hope or wisdom was conceived in my heart. New life is only daunting when I try to control it. This joy has a life of it's own. It's own high imparted to me. I won't be ashamed of it, I'll remember the moment it was given and hold it like a sweet aroma held in the mouth and nose before exhaled. 'll look for the same wonder in the mountains because I'm sure they will mirror my heart. And I'll whisper it reverently into the ear of a spirit more full than the sea. Heart don't fail me, and if you do, let's go to the mountain who is more wise than us both.