Wake up and smell the coffee

Note to self: Do NOT get swept away. You do have the propensity for madness.

In other news, I drove myself home yesterday.
Seriously. In a Dodge Neon.

There is only one that goes far enough to span the distance in your eyes.

I think I've stepped off the craze train in my spiritual walk and have found myself alone on the platform of normality. Normal people, normal thoughts, and a normal existance: plain and placid. The river eventually meanders out into uneventfulness and sheds its load, the work of its passion.

no more, no more.

So I've shed apparent coherance for incoherance. For something stranger and yet more distant. My worldviews have been gladly disengaged and I think I'm about to take real existance a little more seriously.

This might explain my fascination with the aged. They are way more exciting then any youth.
Passion never fades, it only mellows into intense focus.

Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

?? ? ??

That's all I see from you.

Uh, I have nothing to say.

Being Brave

Everyone, at some point in time, has experieced having loved and lost.
Or at least, losing some part of an illusion.

Lemme in!

To speak of anything in terms of two-dimension formulae and absolute certainty is puerile. If anything, it reveals the regression of the mind and the smallness of spirit. And that, is when doctrine becomes dogma.

So what.

In order to be the bigger man, you first have to be there.

Absolut
Tom, this is all your fault.

So my bottle of vodka disappeared into the bowl of punch. And all that's left of last night is a finsihed jig-saw puzzle, a hang-over, 2 shots in the freezer and the devil's blood in a punch bowl. The night was beautiful, and the stars came from the sky to mingle in my living room. We joined our craniums and sang christmas carols.

Andre came home.

'Look at this, I don't know what I'm gonna do with a whole bottle of vodka'
'Ha, I can help'

So my bottle of vodka disappeared into the bowl of punch. And all that's left of last night are the fragmented memories of Kill Bill and my facial scrub, a hang-over, 2 layers of clothes on the coffee table and the devil's blood in a punch bowl. The night was beautiful and the stars came from the sky to mingle in front of my fireplace. We peaced them together and giggled at our success.

New year's revolution (pt. 2)

Love - deeply, truely, purely and correctly.

New Year Revolutions

Do not take -anything- for granted.

By His grace we will suffer, and by His grace we will recover
~ MSP

Sanguine Season.

What is it about us that makes it impossible to span the years? Like staring at an oddity from behind a "please refrain from tapping on the glass" sign.

Better left undisturbed.
Or better left to grow.

I hate disappointing my parents.
I hate disappointing perfection.

You Have a Sanguine Temperament

You are an optimistic person who is easily content. You enjoy casual, light tasks - never wanting to delve too deep into anything. A bit fickle, it's easy for you to change plans or paths when presented with something better. You enjoy all of the great things life has to offer - food, friends, and fun. A great talker, you can keep the conversation going for hours. You are optimistic and sure of your success. If you fail, you don't worry about it too much. At your worst, you are vain. You are obsessed with your own attractiveness. A horrible flirt, you tend to jump into love affairs and relationship drama easily. You're very jealous - which just magnifies the craziness around you.

What Temperment Are You?

The frightening thing is that, this is all true.