Anchor

I want so much to say something clever and attractive. But instead my mind says things it ought not to. I dont dare repeat its message, except to say that I miss you. How many days does love take to make a move?

I am bitter and tired and tied to this past where one sacrifices another for self preservation. What is it? What is it about this place? Somehow new but vastly familiar to our primitive minds.. It is as if we are being directed to review, parhaps by Rassayana, the things we overlooked. Or was it this time magic?

I dont really care.

I am happy and I am free and that means the world to me.

So what if I cry and yell and pine? What is life if not for love?

I say most definitely these question marks serve as bouys. And we are nothing if not able shiphands. No sea is knowable - who can read water? But experience and an eager eye for navigational clues to what lies ahead makes us ideal candidates for being the first to sight, and conquer, land.

Only solace.

Here goes my effort to be vulnerable instead of afraid;

to observe instead of mistrust;

to be open.