peppermint

A new journal entry!!! Wow! What an excellent weekend. Played with my new Harley -- still getting used to the feel of it but managed to get to C’ville just fine, thank you very much. I feel like such a biker babe!! Even though I’m still waiting on test results, I felt calm most of the weekend. Between riding, boating, and of course the hot air balloon ride (thank you Brandon!) I stayed busy. I slept peacefully for the first time in a long time and despite what may or may not be looming, I feel healthy, rested, and most of all blessed. Thanks to all who have lent a shoulder during this time—especially you Brandon, for that and for the secret we shared on top of the world. More later…coffee time! Current mood: Aware Current music: Do what you have to do - Sarah Mclachlan The flowing wave returns not, nor does the passing hour.

Today was a good day. I heard this song, and of course thought of...He is always around me, even tho I will never see his face again. I walk along those city streets you used to walk along with me And every step I take recalls how much in love we used to be How can I forget you When there is always something there to remind me? Always something there to remind me I was born to love you And I will never be free You'll always be a part of me If you should find you miss the sweet and tender love we used to share Just go back to the places where we used to go And I'll be there How can I forget you When there is always something there to remind me? Always something there to remind me I was born to love you And I will never be free You'll always be a part of me If you should find you miss the sweet and tender love we used to share Just come back to the places where we used to go And I'll be there How can I forget you When there is always something there to remind me? Always something there to remind me I was born to love you And I will never be free ************************** Other than that, two doctors appointments and an interview. Busy!! Laurie, if you are reading, I have the answer for you. Current music: Animal, Def Leppard. Current mood: sentimental. Post comments:: Review comments:: The flowing wave returns not, nor does the passing hour.

relevance is==chill out! The flowing wave returns not, nor does the passing hour.

There are rules to follow everywhere. Just yesterday, I get an four hour dog and pony bureaucracy show of paperwork and being talked to by overanxious drones embroiled in their discussions of paranoia, sex, and impish greed. And highly disorganized. If that office were a dog, it would need a committee and five hours to lick its own ass. The flowing wave returns not, nor does the passing hour.

I was afraid you would see it in "black and white" terms. Calling you dogs, god, how elementary! The flowing wave returns not, nor does the passing hour.

You all are truly a merit to Dr. Ivan Pavlov. His work can certainly be verified in this thread!! Too funny!!! The flowing wave returns not, nor does the passing hour.

No, she took hers from ToyzRUS. Puleeze. The flowing wave returns not, nor does the passing hour.

At least I can post MY picture, sweetie. The flowing wave returns not, nor does the passing hour.

It is most interesting to post here. You would be surprised by the people who send me messages to "keep me going." In true Springer-like fashion, they urge me on and encourage me to "start shit" (you know who you ALL are). Most of the faithful posters, however, tend to reduce my intellect to their level. Which is to say that network television looks appealing, and apathy seems to be contagious. That is all. We now return you to your regularly scheduled mundanities and eccentricities. Have an irrationally enchanting day. The flowing wave returns not, nor does the passing hour.

perhaps you are right. in spite of the utter chaos (and you will note my intended use of the lower case as a reflection of its superfluousness) of residing in the same geographic corrdinate planar situatings as XXX and the Xanax-inspired haze of my XXX's ramblings, I find myself pensive and with ample time for reflection regarding many notions and topics. The poetic calm amid the hurricane, so to speak. The flowing wave returns not, nor does the passing hour.

Dear child, while you may not be interested, there are those who are. The flowing wave returns not, nor does the passing hour.

Don't know why a lock would be in order. I haven't said anything bad about anyone. The flowing wave returns not, nor does the passing hour.

So... What Happened? I have been trying for the last five days to sort out why, indeed, things were broken off so suddenly and impeccably ruthlessly. I had asked for patience during my own turmoil and doubt, regret and feelings of a conflicting nature, but apparently, this is seen as Shutting Out and Being Cold Hearted. The answer lies in simplicity, folks. Since this has been brought to a public forum, even when I asked for leniency in my necessity of time, I find it ludicrously laughable to have to submit this to a public forum, as well. Reasonings: 1. I am not at a juncture in my evolution where I can provide, in good conscience, the necessities and desires of another human being. If I ain't happy with the progress of my own spirit and exisence, then how in the name of all that's foul and unholy ought I expect to benefit another? 2. Love isn't the issue. At all. Several times in the last week, I have had the phone in my hand, ready to dial, and say I made a mistake, that I was mistaken, that things ought to continue in a manner with which I am not entirely comfortable. However, I feel, as a Human, that to give less than one hundred per cent of life and love to another in the face of telling/showing you you love them makes one a damned hypocrite. And can only lead to resentment, anger, jealousy, and misgivings, on both sides, down the road. 3. I have feelings, too. Though they be my own counsel and that of my God... behind these cobalt eyes, there burn universes of thoughtful feeling and emotion that could span aeons, but acutely slice in a second. 4. The fact that I prefer to keep my turmoil to myself and deal with such in my own self-enforced solitude of spirit may, yes, be cold-bloodedly vague and borderline nihilistic. But I have to go with what I believe benefits the Whole: granted that two people create a third Relationship Entity when they come together, and have equal power over that cosmic foetus, but. One parent does not a child make: it takes a village to raise a child. 5. It seems quite ludicrous to me to be able to claim to love someone with one's full self when they cannot deliver it to said beloved. So sue me, I refuse to be a blasphemer, a liar, or a traitor. 6. "My meat is to do the Will of Him that sent me. And finish His Work." Nohing and no one will stand in the way of such. My prayers vary from surcease for others, to comfort for the same, to faith againt for the named, and to always be in the right of that might. 7. I would rather stab one I love in the heart than have them live years of slow torture. Again, love isn't the question. There you have it. Hate me if you will. My humblest thanks: those who witheld their tongues and extended their compassion and understanding. No thanks: you know who you are. The flowing wave returns not, nor does the passing hour.

Not I, but I like it very much. Remember that sunset load we met on the plane, had the long spot and then landed off together? Is it all in that pretty little head of yours? What goes on in that place in the dark? Well I used to know a girl and I could have sworn, that her name was Veronica. The flowing wave returns not, nor does the passing hour.

Bullshit. Obviously it is not for you, but the show was something families could sit down together and enjoy. I know a lot of adults who enjoyed the show alongside their kids of all ages. It was an alternative to a lot of the other trash on TV that is dubbed as "entertainment". Are the Olympics also for people who have no lives and have to watch other people live their life for them? How about sporting events? Chris Excellent response! The flowing wave returns not, nor does the passing hour.

one more . . . The flowing wave returns not, nor does the passing hour.

I'm friggin' puking! *GAG* The flowing wave returns not, nor does the passing hour.

That one I would like because then I could say, "Can you spare a square?" Anyone remember that? The flowing wave returns not, nor does the passing hour.

This is the most disgusting thing I've ever read!!! EW!!!!!!!!!! The flowing wave returns not, nor does the passing hour.

I want to see that too! I recently saw View From the Top. View is one which won't win prizes. It's an entertaining blend of follow-your-destiny cheese, soggy wuv story, and trailer park jokes. Choppy in scripting, elementary in plot, it never the less contains some fine acting and dandy entertainment. Rather like some of Mister Cusack's porer 80s melodrama omedies. If you want to giggle and sniffle, or want to appear sappy and sweet to your Significantly Occupying the Other Seat, see the matinee. Next on my list to see? Piglet's Big Movie. Although methinks I ought find a friend of the outie persuasion to go with me, so's the moviegoers don't think me some kind of pervert. The flowing wave returns not, nor does the passing hour.

Ha ha! My kitties like to play with the flashlight...they run around and bump into each other. I shined it in mo's face last night and fo jumped on his face! It was funny. The flowing wave returns not, nor does the passing hour.

I'm flying to South Dakota this evening! My bi-monthly Close Your Eyes and Point to A Place on Tha Map and Go There Event and I picked South Dakota. Just me and my camera in hopes I can find someone to take my picture with the presidents. The flowing wave returns not, nor does the passing hour.

Not a problem. I think that post was more for me anyway. The flowing wave returns not, nor does the passing hour.

I'm a little under the weather myself, today. Which makes me feel quite contemplative about the other feelings in my life (or the un-feeling)...The subject of not feeling is one with which I am well familiar, as odd as that may sound. It's maddening, to hear the shrike of feelings one ought have, one logically does possess, but to which one has no access. I feared, for a time a few years ago, my having lost my humanity somewhere along the way; that trauma and experience, insight and psychometric infusions, had dulled my sense of empathy to the point where I was incapable of truly feeling. I could not cry when the people closest to me were gone in random acts of violence or equally as flippant whimsies of a blood clot or familiar rupture. It's rather ironic, don't you think, to hear someone saying I Feel You, when it's feeling itself, spontaneous sentiment, which one is closed off from to begin with? But perhaps you lack perspective, as I found I did when the times got the worst, when I felt dead inside. When I felt dead outside; cursed to walk the earth a part of it but not of it, truly. I could hurt for people, but not with them. Nothing, no drug, no robot, no lobotomy, no R2-D2 bop, could stir in me my passion anew, could rouse my sentiments from the slumber I had seen them sink into. My memory stood as a monument only of pain which I could not feel, anguish indescribable to which I could not, wholeheartedly, experience. I would have bled, then, gouged my eyes out, to know I was still alive. Even searing agony would have been better than simply the ? void. A void is a curious thing. The universe is composed of ninety-six percent void, or empty space, did you know? Matter represents some teeny, miniscule part of the energy which makes up the world; our sense, the five that humans are born with, become lying translators, forever transcribing the energy and vitality of the universe into simple terms such as hot or cold or beauty or light which we can, in our infantile mentalities, comprehend. Yet there is a rhyme and reason, a method to the madness, I believe. Somewhere, out there in a field with no fences and a gateless entryway, lies a place where there is no feeling. There is no right or wrong. There exists no pain, no pleasure. There is only the Truth, and the heart of things which are. You despair the loss of your humanity as I celebrate the gaining of your becoming More Than Human. You cry and despair, lost in a vacuum of words, as I hear the chorus of eternity singing in your every motion. You would not stand down, though; you, unlike Jesus of Nazareth and his betrayer, the Buddha and his demons (whose name has escaped me) have chosen, as Osiris, to rise from your grave, this purgatory of spirit and sensation into which you have been plunged, shrieking as a babe, seemingly against your will. Now is the time when time begins to reveal itself and its illusions; now is the time when the veil is pierced, the clouds lifted but that you bid them depart. Will you suffer internally, then, eternally? Or will you stand up for your rights, your manifest destiny as a woman, as a Human, as a man, as a child, as a sage, and reach out to the light which burns your eyes to the point where they believe themselves blind? You are not alone. You are not afraid. You will survive. You will thrive. You will flourish. The dawn will come. Believe. Oh, and I hope you feel better, too! The flowing wave returns not, nor does the passing hour.

umm? Joseph looks like you want me to learn more about you. You better be a nice guy. There are a few in the DZ that I keep my eye on. The flowing wave returns not, nor does the passing hour.