against my window. how incredibly therapeutic.
a new sound.
i love to find my writing again. i keep my journal with me and add to it often, whether it be a word or a page. a moment to remind myself of later. to clarify or complete. yet i've had a bit of a dilemma with this media. maybe because my control is not certain. how i am interpreted and who by.
not many know me, really.
i couldn't care less of the response, really.
enthused romantic. yet reason is my mainstay. illusionist.
make what you will of it, but you may never know it.
in any memory i am aware of my appreciation for those i love and who love me. but for an unpointed reason i feel that so much now.
i am honestly astonished at the quality of relationships i have confidence in in my life. so many are not this lucky. stand in the way.
written or spoken, words are for meaning.
as was presented to me today, in effect the educational foundation of knowledge transferred strictly by oral means, "the letter kills, the word revives."
complete indifference.
enlightened and romanticized.
hokus pokus.
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