Things of Life

     Weather in that coastal place is always deceiving. It may be cooler and overcast, with a sun still burning. Drew looked a few times at her sun hat on a shelf in the closet, and was pondering if throwing it  or not in her travel bag, but eventually she completely forgot about it.      When they went to the amusement park, it was a bit cold, so sun hats did not seem necessary anyway, Drew thought. Therefore, she was instinctively drawn to unshaded seating, occasionally. But when she saw herself in the mirror later in the evening, her face was red as a lobster, especially forehead and nose, and her whole head felt kind of funny. But she was fine, and continued to enjoy everything else the family trip offered.      However, a few days later the woman developed some unusual neck pains, accompanied when turning her head by pinching sensations in the back of the ears. They would not go away. Some affected nerves, maybe...? Drew looked into...

     Everywhere you turn your head on, there is a crisis, and the idea of bloodshed is real. Occasional readings of such facts give me the feeling that I am up to date with the world, all while I sit in my comfortable bed. However, I should not see myself as a simple reader only, but as a member of a group going through a crisis as well. People make statements sometimes about lofty goals that may require bloodshed in order to come to existence; I may sympathize with such goals, but would I be ready to die if necessary for their fulfillment...?       Thinking briefly about it, I concluded that I am pretty much not able to. I am lame at such things, not really trained through hardships, too much a being of confort and nice things: adoring my closet with silk dresses, decorating and improving my spaces, busy to accomplish items on those dream lists... Trapped in my consumerist world, I do not have time to die for causes, even those lofty ones, even though...

M-am reântalnit cu pământul care m-a crescut, si ne-am atins.  N-am putut să-i rezist oricât de răvășită i-ar fi fost fața. Am adormit in liniștea parului său lung si verde, si m-am trezit nemișcată parca...

Un fel de urlat mut.  Visam sa vin sa culeg unicorni, dar vad moartea pe ziduri, și-mi vine sa fug...  Și parca-aș scormoni pământul dupa un paradis ce nu-l pot accepta pierdut...

I am a forager of some kind, Gather memories As I shuffle the sand...

America is a big opening. So big it may overwhelm. Therefore, when you enter it, you better know who you are, and keep yourself whole. Hold on to every bit of you, so you'll not be pulled into the vortex of the melting pot. Careful not to lose the reins of you when fighting for survival. Opening does not necessarily mean freedom. It means a lack of solid structure, an open field. In it, anything can go. Wherever there is lack of structure, you can do, become, think, feel, anything. Those who know who they are, thrive-- they have structure of their own. Those who don't, are constantly in search for it, and struggle; around them is such a vast field, and they may take the shape of whatever may seem to take shape.  If you've experienced structure somewhere else, does not necessarily mean it's yours, but instead you acquired something by default. You still have to find yourself. The opening is just a place where you can either get lost, or find your most authentic self. The...

This purple onion-- color so bright. Its smell is familiarly pungent, and I no longer think if liking or not. Life can hardly be separated from onions. It seems like there is no cuisine that can go without this fruit of earth. Its flavors... everywhere. In life, we open each other like an onion. Layer by layer, in time. In the middle, we find the most tender, the most vulnerable part of self. The sweetest. It's there, swaddled like an offspring in deepest sleep...