02.03.08
Peek Week Papers
The past week unfolded as a magical letter of thoughts. Whenever I expected I had undone the last fold, another uncurtained.
It went on
in this manner until the letter extended to the floor and gyred around me. These thoughts seemed to be written for me
alone. Too private that as much as I
wish to share them, I end up shelving them in my mind for fear of betraying the
subconscious who confidentially wrote to the conscious…
and perhaps these
magical letters are what composes the riddle that I am – well, maybe that, and
an awful amount of heart.
Nevertheless, some thoughts escaped and I know that both
conscious and subconscious will tolerate this leakage. Here are some random admixtures.
Rudeness. If your monthly period cannot excuse such
a thing, nothing can. Be nice.
Love and Hate. I can say with confidence that I am not a
hateful person, and I do not even boast of this for I consider it a gift – a
blessed grace from God. Yes, I
disapprove of a lot of people, but after I have frankly beseeched them of my
sentiments towards them, I harbour no ill feelings. Now, there is an individual who manages to
poke my attention. This person has the
most hateful soul I have ever encountered, but when faced with who this person
vies attention from, this character insists great love. Can this be so? I have no right to judge this individual, but
quoting from James;
“Doth a fountain send forth in the same place sweet water
and bitter? Can the fig tree, my
brethren, bear olive berries either a vine figs? So can no fountain both yield salt water and
fresh.”
Love and Faith. Some may disagree with this certain view,
but I strongly believe that two people in a relationship must share the same
faith. Otherwise, spiritual union – the
most important union – can never be attained, and otherwise, both bodies will
remain intricate jigsaw shapes… they will
gnaw off an arm if necessary to properly fit, bleed at a joint, tilt the head,
or nod a little too deeply just to maintain the vaguely heart-shaped vacuum
that must always exist somehow between them.
Trust me. I bled.
