Knowing eyes look down on me
Almond shaped,
Liquid green
And somehow,
Hazel.
Sad
Brimming
Caring for all they see.
Beautiful
Tender
Knowing
And wise.
Vulnerable,
With betrayal and hurt
from long ago
And heartbreakingly recent.
Hoping to find an
alike soul
to share secrets
and to love forever.
Soul aching.
Stupid.
Nobody wants to look into those eyes.
Who do these eyes belong to,
Nobody but me
It seems.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Nighttime Epiphany. (If you'll pardon the expression)
I would like to share a profound experience I had last night. It was about a question that has been puzzling me for years, ever since I began to remember my dreams, specifically the ones I had during illness.
I finally figured out what made all of those past sick dreams so weird. It would seem that my mind had managed to shrink me.
Like a small bug on a knobbly carpet.
But I'm probably getting ahead of myself.
Have you ever had one of those sharp, fuzzy, softly loud, feebly protesting through a frozen body, with heightened senses dreams, whether you were ill or not?
I've been trying to figure out how to describe them, and what makes them the way they are for the longest time. And I think I've finally cracked it!!!!!!
In a number of instances, I can remember giant quilt patterns, huge fuzzy-feeling pebbles, and humungous doorways that it took forever to reach. I always felt minuscule, and everything around me felt wrong. Everything felt strange, and disproportionate. I remember giant distances along almost boulder-like pebble paths. Everything seemed sharp, and it hurt my mind. So I've settled on the startling theory that I had shrunk in those particular dreams.
The one downside to this theory is that I managed to give myself the same feeling last night as I was trying to fall asleep. Big mistake. I felt like the world was falling away all around me, and it was like every particle of my being was amassing inside my head. For awhile I was able to just open my eyes and everything would come back into perspective, and I just rejoiced in finally figuring it all out.
And then the feeling wouldn't go away when I opened my eyes. I started getting a sort of vertigo, and I felt closed of from everything, almost even closed of from the rest of my body. Almost nothing would make it go away. So I began to pray.
I prayed for awhile, but even just the simple act of opening the prayer eased the feeling a little bit. It helped me feel close to something, someone, that someone was god.
I learned something last night, though I'm not certain as to what. I experienced a profound epiphany. I cracked something that's been boggling my mind for years. In a way, I enjoyed the experience, even the terrifying cut off part.
I doubt that I will encounter anything of it's kind anytime soon.
* * *
I finally figured out what made all of those past sick dreams so weird. It would seem that my mind had managed to shrink me.
 |
| (Yeah, not a very good pic, bit I really think that it describes the dreams well.) |
But I'm probably getting ahead of myself.
Have you ever had one of those sharp, fuzzy, softly loud, feebly protesting through a frozen body, with heightened senses dreams, whether you were ill or not?
I've been trying to figure out how to describe them, and what makes them the way they are for the longest time. And I think I've finally cracked it!!!!!!
In a number of instances, I can remember giant quilt patterns, huge fuzzy-feeling pebbles, and humungous doorways that it took forever to reach. I always felt minuscule, and everything around me felt wrong. Everything felt strange, and disproportionate. I remember giant distances along almost boulder-like pebble paths. Everything seemed sharp, and it hurt my mind. So I've settled on the startling theory that I had shrunk in those particular dreams.
The one downside to this theory is that I managed to give myself the same feeling last night as I was trying to fall asleep. Big mistake. I felt like the world was falling away all around me, and it was like every particle of my being was amassing inside my head. For awhile I was able to just open my eyes and everything would come back into perspective, and I just rejoiced in finally figuring it all out.
And then the feeling wouldn't go away when I opened my eyes. I started getting a sort of vertigo, and I felt closed of from everything, almost even closed of from the rest of my body. Almost nothing would make it go away. So I began to pray.
I prayed for awhile, but even just the simple act of opening the prayer eased the feeling a little bit. It helped me feel close to something, someone, that someone was god.
I learned something last night, though I'm not certain as to what. I experienced a profound epiphany. I cracked something that's been boggling my mind for years. In a way, I enjoyed the experience, even the terrifying cut off part.
I doubt that I will encounter anything of it's kind anytime soon.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
A Maker's Blog
A second blog I created awhile ago,
http://dailycreativeprayer.blogspot.com/
For to post the things I make, in the hopes of inspiring a few people :)
http://dailycreativeprayer.blogspot.com/
For to post the things I make, in the hopes of inspiring a few people :)
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