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Sunday, 2 October 2011

The thought about the thought that I didn't think about

Tonight...a very strange mood.
I have this book, My love you my children, on my left thigh by the Sufi Mystic Bawa Muhaiyaddeen, and a borderline.. erotic song I lost the moon, by Tara Vanflower is playing.
I feel like climbing up a tree and watching the moon, and spotting owls and possums, and *borrowing* a white nightgown and sleeping next to a bowl of apple pudding.  I want to sit in front of a bonfire in a monasteries library with my little boy Luna on my lap and watch stars and fry marshmallows and listen to crickets.  Most of all I want to hug someone.  And somebody to hug me back.

I want to do anything but give in to the spiralling melancholy that starts on Sunday, intensifies on Monday, mellows on Tuesday and is gone by Wednesday.  I can feel it.  Like a black hole inside of me, sucking happiness into a vortex.

Read about the first genocide of the 20th century today.  Looked at the skull of a victim.
When you boil it down, we are a pile of bones and meat, with this incorporeal consciousness.
Fragility.  Futility.  Our own hands create objects that outlive us!  Cement, houses, statues, manuscripts...if that isn't the blackest joke I ever heard, I don't know what is.
So many thoughts about things, couple that with emotions that come from so many thoughts and you have one screwed up mind.

I'm not giving in to fear.  The end of 2011 will be about gambles and faith.  At least, my goal tonight.  Who knows about tomorrow.

And tonight I realised something..............................................

I adore you.

So long.


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