"there is perfection in the process, and all life arises out of choice. it is not appropriate to interfere with choice, nor to question it. it is particularly inappropriate to condemn it."

have i eaten in the last few days? i remember vine leaves and fruit snacks but nothing else. i haven't been drinking as much water as my body needs. i'm not dehydrated but i'm not peaking. i think i'm talking about nothing so that i don't have to touch on the things that really matter. does anything really matter? in these ends that everyone is so concerned about. a friend talks less about closure and more about new beginning's. he's wiser than he lets on.

thinking about how money only takes on importance when i am in debt. otherwise i have little use for it. i am not in need. even food and water and shelter are wants. yes, they sustain the body but if you don't want to live, do you continue to seek the things that sustain life? those that continue talks of suicide want only to pulled from the brink of their own misfortune more than anything. i overdosed a few years ago. a bottle of tylenol downed over kristi. i went downstairs and lay on my bed for 2 minutes before i walked into the den to ask my mother if she would drive me to the hospital. the things we do for love. more appropriately, the things we think love requires.

and it's so strange to me when i get a glimpse of how i am perceived by another. i am generally unconcerned with someone else attempts to change me. [to shame me.] i'm so wrapped up in my warped imaginings that such revelations often come as a shock. surprise is a common excuse for my delay in reaction. too many people try and get a rise out of me, out of anyone. but he doesn't want anything, and i spent more time pushing him than the other way around. he let me be myself even when that self was turning into someone neither of us liked. he's a better person in that respect.

"if there were such a thing as sin, this would be it: to allow yourself to become what you are because of the experience of others."

i have, half-heartedly, been looking for a misplaced cheque. i pulled on a pair of unwashed jeans this morning as the need to find this slip of paper frantically increased. once on, something poked my flesh and i reached into my pocket and there it was. the moments we give ourselves when we don't try and make ourselves forget.

it's hard living in a world you know should be different, but where you don't know what to change. and if we were a more sophisticated species we would force revolution as often as our resources would allow. the civilization that thinks it is evolved has too much to learn about evolution to ever be called civilized.

i don't think of god nearly as much as i should. i don't think godly thoughts, nearly as much as i should. i think the greatest mistake i have made is in thinking that his intentions could possibly be the same as my own. his understanding allows for compassion whereas my compassion is me seeking to understand. when i allow myself to be consumed by them, the patterns are magnificent.

the parts that make up who i am parallel into the people that make up who we are, the human race as a whole. the universe feels much like the body of god where we all make up his entirety. and that which is a part of god, is god. that which is a part of me, is in essence, my Self.

i think what i'm saying is you cannot find what you already are in possesion of. i can't go looking for myself hoping i will one day come across her in some deserted area of land. she is in me. she is of me. she is not finding herself, she is merely remembering.

"it is not god's function to create or uncreate the circumstances and conditions of your life. god created you in the image and likeness of god. you have chosen the rest."