Science and Mysticism conjoin
Exceptions Prove The Rule

looking at my cat sleeping on a pile on blankets next to me while i am drunk on wine makes me so grateful and nostalgic for the moments when we first met in south dakota and had no idea that we would both overcome our challenges for survival together; her with the harsh reality of solitude on the inner plains and me constantly making my way back to ( Read more... )

Thank you for taking the time to write such a thoughtful response, Shawn ( Read more... )

Can I stay here for a while? She wonders aloud as she blinks around the room, a membrane of tears on the cusp of her eyelids. Scully stands when she recognizes a chair adjacent to Mulder's bed. Odd, how she hadn't noticed it before, hadn't yet found herself submerged into the foamy pads, counting minutes to his recovery in her customary way. It ( Read more... )

There is no place for this ( Read more... )

If this New entry field was as wide and blank as my gut then maybe that is close to what I feel. But then, with each word the space quickly fills with seeds of doubt. Does dwelling help? Is really pampering my worries the best way to acknowledge their presence? It seemed like a waste of precious time. To me: savor every last drop out of ( Read more... )

Tired? Yes.
Frantic? Yes.
Anxious? Yes.
Excited? Yes.
Mud, okay? Yes.

Why it still haunts me, I couldn't say why I am constantly thrown off guard by forgotten memories that flashback like hot light at my temples: oh yes, snow flakes on my mittens. Or, that time Kelly went vegan. There is some evil part of me that longs for it like that would fix all the sour parts of my past I will always conveniently forget. That I ( Read more... )

I know I probably shouldn't be lounging around JP by myself on my last legitimate day living in Boston, but I just can't help myself. After last night, I should really get a free pass in missing festive, yet casual hangs, something I'm sure I will truly miss as I settle in to life as a rural Vermont-er. I'm scared and ecstatic and apathetic all at ( Read more... )

A disquiet engulfs me, ebs, wans, and then is gone like an afternoon breeze could just blow it away. Then a sense of time passing too quickly. And not at all. I frown at the garden and at my green thumb, reminding myself in an assured manner that the powdery mildew is probably, mostly not my fault and that I will do much better next year. Some call ( Read more... )