Social Consciousness and other things I Think about

December Orchids

2011-12-22T18:48:00.000-07:00

the winter sprigs
turn cold and blue
purple with night flowers-
the sunless days when i was close to you
turned into midnight hours

the blue the jade of evergreen
remind me of the yearning-

the wanting
wondering
waiting
longing
hoping for beginning.

Only those with tender cloaks and steel inside their pockets,
can tell You to move forward-
intrepidly against the pain
and cold december orchids

Yes,
time passes, but cannot erase
the broken of the hearted-
i tumble, stumble, abashed, i crash
amongst the dearly parted.

Down the hall and straight ahead

2011-12-06T12:00:00.000-07:00

Hear them whisper
in your bed
                  Make impressions, in your Head.

Go on,
forget the spring time
and
Let the Blues wash over you
in silent hues
                    - and moonshine.

Come on,
Receive the dawn, with its burning light: casting a spell on the Night.

Forever parted.
Forever bequeathed-

Enduring with you- They will-
dry your tears,
                       while you fall asleep.

Untitled

2011-12-02T12:00:00.000-07:00

the love lost wasn't the love for you.
let go, unwind, the story, rewind, the one that you outgrew.

she held you tight, long, through the night
not wanting to let you go
only, minds wander and years pass, we often let love flow

through our fingers
streaming down
far from where we started
darling, i did not mean to leave you broken hearted.

amongst the rubble, ash, decay
where we let our love part
there lies in ruins:
the gleaming wishes of my tender heart.

My Baby Brother, a baby no more

2011-11-30T12:00:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time there was a raven haired girl who lived fancifully amongst the love and adoration of the adults in her life. At nightfall and in the early morning light, she whispered her dreams, deep, into her pillow. And one day, they started to come true.

Little by little, as time would pass,
each dream would manifest itself at last.
Sure their was heartache, growth, and pain along the way.
And of course she learned of attachment and how hearts are led astray.
But the wishes that felt true and kept her in light, revealed themselves eventually, and she never lost sight.

The first of these wishes was to have a baby brother.
And alas the day came, happier than no other.
He was born on June1st 1986, and was truly the first of amazing and wonderful gifts.
They grew-up together, the best of friends,
and the story continues, it has no end.

----

Here is what he is doing, a baby no more:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=91W0kovEJuY

http://www.nsnews.com/story_print.html?id=5310530&sponsor=

A beaming big sister!

Namaste.

Bliss

2011-11-28T11:00:00.000-07:00

We each wear a myriad of hats in our lives and on a daily basis. The trick is not to become one with the label that we or society has placed on us. The goal, instead, is to dissasociate ourselves with all of the external conditions, and go inward. Within each of us is the grain that holds the magic of who we are and why we are created in the first place. The real self. Unchanged. Safe from circumstance, experience, and ego. In buddhism, there is a meditation where you ponder "Who was I before my parents were born"?

When we are infants, we are the perfect little buddhas. Deeply connected to our needs and full of unconditional love. Then, somewhere along the way, we get the message that we need to be better versions of ourselves. And this is when the clock begins to strike midnight, and the magic of our individuality begins to evaporate.

I truly believe that our mission in life is not to improve who we are but to acknowledge and accept who we are. To find our bliss, and follow it.

I think that in the process of learning skills and honing them, we have squashed our ability to build on our strengths.

Today, take the time to write out what you have always desired to do with your life. I think that is your bliss. Now, follow it.

xo

The Anti-Greed movement

2011-11-25T11:00:00.000-07:00

It is not enough to put Gandhi quotes on your Facebook page. It takes more than going to church/mosque every week, recycling, and donating to Red Cross after a major natural disaster. Those are great steps to take, and I am sure that they make you feel like you are making a difference and that you are a good person. But, they are not enough. They are easy and deficient.
We used to call these people 'posers' in high school. Sadly, those posers grew-up and now claim to be honourable good people that don't eat meat and sympathetically shake their heads when they hear about people being hungry or schools shutting down. They may even attend a charity dinner or run a 10k marathon to raise money for a cause that strikes a cord.

But, it is not enough.

In my humble opinion, it takes the following:
1- Education. Educate yourself on the issues that people are fighting for.
2- Questioning. Question your personal beliefs, constantly. Ask yourself, does my support of ---- (insert name of political party, political platform,or movement here) mesh with my beliefs and values?
3- Stand-up for change. Make the change. Be the change. And not just by wearing a t-shirt or quoting Gandhi, but by ....
- writing letters to elected officials, supporting the Anti-Greed/Occupy movement, and saying what you believe, no matter who the company.

I do not believe that we want different things, I believe that there is a compassionate way of achieving universal peace, harmony, health, and happiness. Do you?

a teenage dream

2011-11-23T12:00:00.001-07:00

Is it okay to hide-
knock.
turn around the
clock
under the bed, over my head, was a blanket of stars.

Would play
all day
with you
in my thoughts
no rest
just
a hope
a wish and dream,
a fantasy for me to convene.

when we last saw each other-
the moon shimmered on the sea
and i wanted,
only
to dance with thee.

no rest
thoughts grow
love wanes
and i shook you off-
in the fall-
like the trees with their pretty leaves.

Egoist

2011-11-21T12:00:00.001-07:00

Do you remember that Channel commercial from the 90s where beautiful angry women open their balcony doors and yell "Egoist!" into the air of some Mediterranean town? Their long luscious hair beating against the wind; then (the following part may be a conjecture of my teenage mind) the camera finds an unimaginably handsome chiselled man, listening to the wind carry the angry voices to the sea.
This morning, I felt like one of those angry women. I wanted to find my very own balcony (substitute sun drenched Mediterranean town with nippy Calgary), let my long locks flail with drama, and shout the same cat call to a nameless chiselled man (substitute handsome Italian dude with older greying guy in an okay suite).

After a night of my children playing tag-team 'wake up Mom and Dad', I realized that we did not have coffee filters, nor was there any bread in the house, and my equally tired husband was already out of the house and in the office. So, after changing the kids' diapers, filling their sippy cups with milk, and bundling everyone into their winter coats (over our pyjamas) we headed to my favourite coffee shop in Calgary: Fresh Kitchen. It is a small little shop, with home baked treats, fresh flowers, and everything from local milk to rare truffle oil and crackers made by Buddhist monks living in El Salvador (not really, but you get the picture).

It is the kind of place where people smile when you walk through the doors, they remember you but don't bug you with too much talk; and it is never bustling and overcrowded. In fact, this morning, there were three people, myself included, getting our coffees at that time.

I left the kids in the car (I was parked just outside the store) and ran inside- wearing my pink flannel pyjamas, running shoes, and big black winter coat with a broken zipper. After I made my order and paid, I ran the muffins to the car, so the kids would get some food into their bellies, and I went back for my coffee.

Once I got to the counter, there were two gentlemen (and I use that word lightly here) standing at the counter, paying for their drinks. I said, "Excuse me" as I slowly slid my arm past the guy to the left, to get my drink. Now, remember, I just got out of bed, I have on a massive fluffy full-length winter coat, that won't close, over pink flannel pyjamas, and crazy bed hair. You can't miss me. But, when I said "Excuse me" the man moved to the right, oh, about, half a centimetre. The gentleman behind the counter said, "Oh, excuse our reach, just have to give her coffee"- translation: "Seriously man, move over, the store is not packed, I need to give this scary looking lady her coffee." The suited man moved over a teeny smidgen more, and as I reached for my Americano, the cuff of my jacket hit the side of a display and very hot coffee spilled, onto my hand, the cuff of my coat (tightly pressed around my wrist), on the counter, and some on the floor.

The barista exclaimed, "Oh NO! Are you okay ma'am? What can I do for you? Are you okay?" I yelped "Ooh, kinda! Hot! Hot!" then looked at the man next to me and said, "Sorry about that, are you okay?" He checked to see if I spilled on his suite, and replied, "I am not sure." I realise that I have not burnt him, or else he would know. I then recall how expensive a suit can be, and apologize again, but add, "At least there is not milk in it, you should be fine."

Meanwhile, my jacket has absorbed all the hot water and my wrist is burning. I feel I cannot take off my coat in the store because I am in my pyjamas, so I quickly run to my car. Once I manage to take my coat off, I pour cold water on my hand and wrist (thank God I leave bottled water in the car).

Then, as one does when a highly intense incident occurs, I replay the events in my mind. I think about the suited-man's actions. I think of my husband, in his suits, and what he would do if a crazy looking lady spilled coffee on herself and a little on him.

Herein lay the difference between a true gentleman and an Egoist.

The Egoist at Fresh Kitchen cared only about his suit, he was meticulously wiping at it while I was flapping my hand, and clearly hurt. He made no caring or helpful gestures, instead made me feel bad for an accident that clearly hurt me more than it hurt him. Not to mention, had he moved over a few more inches, the accident would not have occurred.

A gentleman would realise that he is not hurt, and that there is someone other than himself needing attention at the moment. A gentleman would help the person in need first; all else is secondary.

I believe George Michael said it best when he sang, "I hope you understand / Sometimes the clothes do not make the man"

Namaste.

Forgive and forget

2011-11-17T11:11:00.000-07:00

Forgiveness.

It is a loaded word. Simultaneously weighty and light.

For some people, forgiveness comes easily, but for most of us it takes years. Our Egos are very well versed at keeping grudges and holding onto forgiveness like a shield to protect us from harm. But that shield is awfully heavy, giving us calluses as we strain to hold onto it. Once we let go of that shield, and handover the forgiveness, we are much lighter and stronger-- no loner needing a shield for protection. We are poised with compassion. And compassion is all we need.

I am the type of person who always sees the good in people. In matters of grievances, the point of no return is far out of reach. Only a handful of people have crossed that line, and for them I have not given up my hate, anger, or aversion. Intellectually, I know that it is better for me to forgive and forget, so I am working on this concept.

I often think of the quote from Oscar Wilde: "Always forgive your enemies- nothing annoys them so much." I love Oscar Wilde, and although these words are true (and humorous), the depiction of forgiveness as a form of retribution doesn't seem to help me achieve a zen-like state.

However, the following exercises has helped me to forgive and forget.

I turn the tables around. I think about all my 'mistakes' and the people I feel that I have 'wronged'. I think about why I acted the way I did and I realize that everyone, given a chance, would go back and right the wrongs they have done (obviously I am not including Psychopaths in this category as they are clinically unable to feel empathy). We are only human, as I say to my three old, and we all make mistakes. We do the best we can with the resources we have at the tim; and as we evolve, we do better. We all have regrets. Today, I chose to see the people who have wronged me or who will wrong me, as innocent humans, who mean no harm.

Try it, and let me know how it works for you.

And remember: Forgive, son; men are men; they needs must err. ~ Euripides

Namaste :)

LOST and STOLEN

2011-11-16T14:27:00.000-07:00

I will not cry for you.

make me fall to my knees
                                                          reach for


free fall
             down
                      into you
slowly
the abyss grew so dark and so cold over me
concealing me-
wayward girl

losing myself to you-
the lost and the missing.
MISSING

no picture of my soul on this milk carton.

i will not cry these tears of regret. they will not fall. they will not
                                                                                                  show themselves

they do not exist. you did not wake me from my life and take me to
another

so dark and so cold

alone

in this world of attachments

And, it was New Year's Eve. I wanted to feel real, like everyone else. Looking out my window- at the Christmas lights, linning the streets. Hearing crowds of people laughing, they were near but not near enough. My window was fogged with steam. I had to wipe it clean. It left a mark, a shadow trail. I couldn't see clearly out that window, I wanted to see what they were wearing, and from where they were coming and going.

Did the fireworks start? Did I miss them? Am I too late?

I am so sad.
oh! here they go! i see them sparkle
                                             between the tall buildings.
Red, Gold, Opulent, Silver, Vibrant, Emerald, Joyous, Blue
Glitter Glue on navy velvet skies-
it doesn't stick.

my view is obstructed, anyhow.

too dim to see the light
             snuffed
somewhere along my path ...

Frightened.

the stolen and the missing

all a lonesome

Fuck you.

I will not cry for you.

You will starve dry- no longer gleam nutrients from my bitter tears.

Clean-up time, everybody everywhere ... everybody, do your share.

2011-11-01T12:32:00.001-06:00

In this age of excess materialism (which continues to get propagated through commercials, television shows like Cribs, Keeping Up with the Kardashians, Entertainment Tonight, and the concept of 'The American Dream') it is difficult to stay focused on what is important in life and in the development of our children.

My family and I recently moved from Vancouver, BC to Calgary, AB which afforded us the luxury of a bigger home, which includes individual bedrooms for our kids, and a finished basement, which we have used as the kids' playroom.

We are consciously trying NOT to fill this extra space with things! However, despite our greatest efforts, we have failed. Our playroom was literally overflowing with toys. And with Christmas around the corner, I decided to clean-up shop, because otherwise there would be no room for our kids to play in the playroom. Let me be clear to say that my husband and I do not buy Christmas gifts for our kids, and we have asked all our friends and family to go easy on the gifts, yet, somehow we find ourselves in this predicament.

So, a few days ago, I decided to rummage through the room and give away all the superfluous toys. I kept only the ones that my kids play with most, or that would require them to use their imagination. My kids are left with the following: a second hand Kitchen set (they like to play house and restaurant), blocks, Lego's,second-hand Hot Wheels, two remote control Zambonis (gift from my cousin and their Grammpy), train set, dress-up clothes (filled with old Halloween costumes), some plush toys, books, and the sport stuff they play with. Everything else is going to charity.

I found it hard to decipher what would stay and what would go, I kept getting swept into the idea that the toys I wanted to give away were educational and that somehow my kids would be missing-out without their FisherPrice 'hit the clown over the head with the hammer' toy.

It is ridiculous to believe that a toy would make my children smarter, better adjusted, or happier. I know that they will gain fine motor skills, gross motor skills, healthy attachments, wisdom, and self-confidence by spending time with their family and friends, and doing the simplest of activities: writing a card for a friend, colouring, playing hockey in our driveway, playing soccer in our backyard, etc. I know this for a fact. However, this is how marketing brainwashes us, and we are all susceptible. Moreover, since marketting has become better/smarter, brand names have changed to get us at first sight, with names like Imaginarium and Educo-- all parents get sucked-in. We actually believe that without such-and-such toy our kid will be deficient to his/her counterparts, in someway. Thus, parents spend more time at work to pay for stuff, to fill our houses, so our kids can grow to .... do the same?? Really?? I thought I became a parent to enjoy my kids, to grow with them and be with them. Didn't you?

Having been a primary-school teacher, I do realise that toys are an important part of learning and growing, because children really do learn through play. But, I also remember a time when plastic food, fake store registers, and indoor play structures were only found in schools and daycares, now they are in most middle/upper-class homes. So, I realise that this issue pertains to a certain class.

In an ideal world, every child would live in a warm, dry, safe home with loving guardians and a few great toys. Since this is not the case, and my children are in the 1% when it comes to toys, today, I am doing my part- I am giving away (NOT selling on Craig's list) the toys they do not play with often enough to justify them keeping it.

I can't give every kid a safe, dry home, with loving guardians (that is my ultimate goal/wish) but I can share my toys.

Miss Representation

2011-10-16T10:38:00.001-06:00

You must watch this:

http://vimeo.com/28066212

Tumbling

2011-10-15T15:57:00.000-06:00

you still
  somehow
hold a spell
on
      me.

could not see
my scar in the sunlight-
blissfully blinded by its luminous light.

But, i cannot forget what i know so well
scar tissue, second skin, from the day our eyes fell
                                                                                 onto
                                                                                  into
                                                                                      one
                                                                                another.

Trip- don't fall-- so deep this well: dark and familiar.

perhaps it's cosmic
this thick spider web
dust filled with satin
from the day i first fell-

What is the Occupation of Wall Street, you might ask ...

2011-10-13T21:27:00.000-06:00

Dear readers,

Check this out: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RSdPtzQBWVs

We are lucky to be living in Canada. Remember that we were once known as a Socialist-Democratic Nation.

Please ponder the following:

- Are we still Social-Democrats?

- Is it okay for our Labour Minister to force airline attendants back to work?

- Is it okay for a Prime Minister (Psudo-Liberal Gordon Campbell) to force Teacher's back to work when they are fighting for smaller class sizes, better school resources, and more money to be placed into PUBLIC education?

- What are you more likely to do ...
a) Write an email to your Member of Parliament asking him/her to stop puppy mills (which I am ferverently against, by the way)
b) Write an email to your Member of Parliament asking for better Case Worker/Case ration in Family Services.
I ask this question because I find it is easier for people to take a stand against animal rights than the rights of children and the underprviledge. Somehow, public services, tax systems, and the underpriviledge have become too politically charged to discuss or publicly support. Shame.

Occupation of Wall Street

2011-10-13T21:02:00.000-06:00

I do not know enough about what is going on with the occupation of Wall Street and the similar activism that is being organized around the world. And, if it were not for Twitter, and following Naomi Klein, I would not even know it was happening.

I wish I knew more. I wish that every time I went to read an article about the Occupation of Wall Street, my 18 month old would not climb up on my leg and demand attention. But he does. And he is extremely cute and cuddly, so I put away the news, and play with him instead.

Let me just say the following: I am able to put away the information, and play happily with my baby, knowing that the world is finally waking-up, people are educating themselves, and mobilising their forces to fight the biggest scams of this century.

I am thrilled to hear that people from all walks of life are discussing the bogus trickle down effect, questioning a laissez-faire free market, and putting into question the back-stage deeds between policy makers, politicians, and the financial powers.

I am as happy today as I was when I read my first Gloria Steinem article. I am as hopeful today as I was when I heard that Alison Redford (Conservative Premier of Alberta) TRULY believes in supporting public education and public health, by putting back all the funds taken from those spheres in the past year.

I am grateful to all the people who seek knowledge, change, and are not afraid to show it.

Namaste

Meditations

2011-09-30T14:33:00.000-06:00

A landslide brought me down.
I did not chose who would pick me up.

Who were you before your parent's were born?

Who was I meant to be.

Weeeeeeeeeeeeee-- the thunder rolls over the desert.
The rain reaches tides along the coast.

Who am I without you?

Emerald leaves turn red as the blood count rises.
                                                                             drip.
                                                                                     drop.
                                                                                             red.
                                                                                                   ruby.
                                                                                                           pomegranate seeds.

How can I extricate myself from you, when you are the ones who polished me with your stories.

                                                                                                             Obsidian
                                                                                                   fills
                                                                                           my
                                                                               eyes
                                                         with illusion.

I cannot reshape what you have carved me to be.

I cannot fill the cracks

created
concrete
within.

Tools of love, redemption, betrayal, manipulation ...
manipulations

i

r
a
n

Miramichi

2011-09-24T16:25:00.000-06:00

They
shut down the factory.

The pulp and paper mill.

A great big building
rusting
starkly
against the timeless river.

Trees grow out from the vents.
Vines cover the conveyor belts.
Blossoms crawl up the sides of the building.
And underneath the foundation, live roots pulse.

Nature takes it toll
over the abandoned
soul.

Sorry

2011-09-21T15:16:00.000-06:00

Going up the narrow road. The list of expectations, that have yet to be met, driving circles in my mind. The apology list grows longer and longer-- saying sorry for things that have yet to come, people I know I will fail. The guilt grows darker, creates a shadow, a blind spot- a thump!

I hit a car. I hit his car. He has a nice car.

It's a reflex: stop, drive back, park the car, and step out.

Oh my gosh, I really hit his car. His side mirror is on the road.

I am so sorry.

It's okay.

I will give you all my information.

Yes, let's exchange information.

I am really very sorry.

being good

2011-09-20T16:11:00.000-06:00

“You do not become good by trying to be good, but by finding the goodness that is already within you.” -Eckhart Tolle
One of the biggest misconceptions in life is that we need to be better than who we are to do good in the world. We don’t; we just need to do what we can from the place where we stand. Meaning, we need to be ourselves, recognize our gifts, and take action from the core of who we are.

This idea that we need to look outside ourselves to be a better version of ourselves is completely false. I have recently come to the realization that everything I have ever wanted to be, I was. I was the fun, adventurous, skater-girl, mountain biker at the age of 8. Then, in my teens, I was the "I don't care what you think of me" free spirit (my cousin calls this time, my Alanis Morissett stage- hahaha).

When did I lose touch with who I am?

When I stopped looking inward. When I began comparing myself to the girl in the band, the girl in the movie, in the magazine, sitting next to me in PoliSci class, etc.

When I listened to the advertisements on TV telling me that I would be happier and better if I were thinner, blond, stronger, more active, had a cat, owned a dog, etc.

I only recently, at the age of 33, been reminded that I am all that I have ever wanted to be. I am the best version of me.

I think my kids reminded me, because when I am with them, I am proud of them for simply being themselves. I gush when they show their emotions, good or bad, because it is an expression of who they are, and who they are is perfection. And who I am is perfection. And who you are is perfection.

If you can, today, take some time to see how good you truly are.

Namaste

Time it was ...

2011-08-29T13:28:00.000-06:00

The
musky smell
of
sun quenched wood
that
filled the walls
of
my parents' home.
A
High contrast
Gloss
to the
fresh ocean breeze
ice-blue sky
Outside.

All those times before,
I held
a great deal
within my heart
in my hands

Only gave
a
little
away
when
sharing school day ties

A life fully lived
is never
fully
realized

Spending
months
and
moments
stitching secrets into a box.

Subscribers, anyone?

2011-08-25T17:08:00.000-06:00

Hello dear readers,

I am trying to write more frequently, and would LOVE some subscribers to my blog!! You can subscribe by clicking on RSS feed.

Thank you and God bless.

Sareh

PS Thanks for reading :)

to Smile is to Give

2011-08-23T17:32:00.000-06:00

Mother Teresa said "Every time you smile at someone, it is an action of love, a gift to that person, a beautiful thing."

Back in September 2010, I promised to follow my friend, Jacqueline Way of www.365give.ca, and commit to 365 days of 'giving' to society, to make the world a better place.

I knew this promise would be hard to keep with an upcoming surgery I was to have, but I thought that I could rise to the occasion, not realising how much rest our bodies require after surgery.
I was very very aware of my promise and of Jacqueline's task to give, daily. So, I gave the best way I knew how, by smiling and being deeply grateful of everyone that crossed my path during this time of recovery.

I used to think that smiling and being friendly was not "a give" as I come from a family of smilers, we smile at everyone for every reason. I have witnessed my grandma, on numerous occasions, with a warm, welcoming, and endearing smile on her face, ask a sales clerk the cost of an item of clothing they are selling. It is in our blood and in our family culture. We smile. So, I never thought anything of it. In high school I was voted best smile, not because my smile is pretty, but because I smile so much. In university, a friend of mine had to give me a book, and was supposed to meet me in front one of my classes. I was late, and she had to get to her own class, so she approached a fellow classmate of mine, and said, my friend Sarah is in this class, do you know her? She said "no". Then my friend described me as "the girl with shoulder length black hair who smiles all the time", and this complete stranger responded, proudly, "oh yeah, I know her".

As I have grown-up and seen more of the world, and less of my family, I have seen that smiling is not something that everyone does on a regular basis. And then a few weeks ago, I came across the following quote: Every time you smile at someone, it is an action of love, a gift to that person, a beautiful thing.
— Mother Teresa

Thus, it is official. By Mother Teresa standards (the golden oracle of giving) I did give-back, daily. It was all I could do, to smile at everyone.

They say smiling has a rippling effect, so smile big, as the bigger the ripple the bigger the wave :)

Untitled

2011-06-14T14:28:00.000-06:00

Out of the dark and into the light
It was a sweet hot summer night
With the wild wind blowing,
beneath our feet,
And the ocean sea breeze
misting the streets-
we ran for cover.

Out of the dark and into the night
The moon
it shone its humid light.

Two young girls dreaming,
knowing of defeat.
Hoping for much better-
hoping for relief.

They slowly clipped our pretty wings.

They fed us, clothed us, caged us in.

When at last we made it-
struggling, found the key-
it was too late for the party.
Bloated bellies and yellowed teeth.

The music echoed
in the stark rooms.

The two girls hung onto yesteryear,
and what they never knew.

love and war

2011-01-09T14:45:00.000-07:00

A series of questions have arised since I spoke to my best friend.
If anyone can answer these, please do.

#1- How can I love my partner deeply in one moment, and loathe him so much, another?

#2- There are times that I feel my partner is my guardian angel, perfect match, perfect person for me- and other times, I feel he is my worste enemy and the strangest soul to have ever roamed the earth. How can such duelling thoughts and feelings exist in my heart, my marriage, and my home?

They say that romance ebbs and flows, like the tide. This I believe.
And my love is as constant as the Ocean: ever evolving, ever flowing, and always there. Deep. Powerful. Full of surprises. Yet, unchanging.

la paix

2010-10-24T22:01:00.000-06:00

I am awake and just before I come to- I am elegant peace.
No matter what the reality of my surroundings, it is a marmalade morning with the smell of freshly brewed guatamalan coffee. It is spring. I am home. I am happy.
Slowly the edges frey and smoke fills the air. This illusion printed on thin greying manilla paper is burning into nothingness. Reality sloshes through my veins and I am presently aware of the old friend that is here with me. I get up to start my day and she follows me, like a true frennemy does. My depression: alas you are still here, visiting. For how much longer, you canot say. I wish you would leave me. Would there be a void? I could replace you. I will replace you. Yes, I will. I will replace you with elegant and lasting peace.