could the snow weigh any heavier on my peace of mind?
it is dark.
the day is over and over again before it begins.
my friends threw rocks at me. pine cones. chased me while i was dirty. i have the distinct memory of a bloody nose due to a game of red-rover and blood on my purple dirty coat.
i am not leaving but seem to be in waiting. i am listening for the sounds of other people who may have found a way out as well as for those who are arriving here.
everything becomes a metaphor sometimes. parts of life metaphorical for other parts of life and the metaphors blur together.
i am told that circular logic is a trap.
i feel -
and yes there is science to explain this,
but then i can't help but see the shape of the universe and wonder if everything might not truly be
as it should be.
looking for direction in computer screens and television screens and my joints are sore from all of the forced air heat and it is this time of year for memory and questioning and the memories are haunting me causing bad dreams, seeping into the people around me and we are all burried by winter snow.
Really, it is funny how when one cannot sleep and is up late and finds herself with a peanut butter sandwich and a glass of warm soy milk in front of her computer screen looking inward and out over the world through the internet window something so relevant pops up.
A sermon by Rev. Frederick Emerson Small