the love of words

Books and words and other things

why write (a river of thought)

There is something in my head that won’t leave me and I don’t know how to capture it, and it’s a picture that I can barely see. It is a ghost of an emotion and a time for me to dwell by the river, and the river is a tree which has a noise that draws me, and that is where I die and where I want to die, and it is where I can fill my heart with the crumbs of earth

joy

Close your eyes. Let the busy mind go. See what you see. An unexpected keepsake.

Certain uncertainties

I used to look at older people when I was young and think it must be lovely not to be a tangle of uncertainties and social awkwardnesses. I think it was a mirage. Maybe it was a straight out con.

tender

that’s one way I deal with pain. To see it as part of me. And as part of recovery. I guess I’m remapping my brain, and distracting it from a painful sensory overload.