Friday, March 13, 2009

A Sunday Mile

Just for the sake of keeping this alive...

A Sunday Mile

  I have rarely taken such a look around as I have today. My walks usually bare a meaning, taking these autumn strolls with hands stuffed into jacket pockets, hands gripping the lining to keep just a bit warmer while thinking about how to clear my mind. I never took the time to capture the beauty of the leaf shower coming down on me, fire glow orange and rose pedal red. The trees looming just a bit closer while gripping their last leaves to keep just a bit warmer.

  I remember walking and usually looking down. My steps becoming a bit quicker with each step, trying to catch the silhouette in front of me. The sun glistened all around me, everything in front of me, and all that I had passed. Still, I sought that shadow. In the midst of great yearning I forgot to look up, even if just once, to see the rainbow of colors splashing down on me and my silhouette. The reflection of the light off of puddles, blades of grass, and the beauty I had been passing by all this time.

  Now as I walk, I wonder what things would be like if I never thought to look up. Seeing the majesty of all that lay in front of me on this path I created. Snapped twigs and crunched grass of my doing. The trees looming ever closer, whispering to me that all is forgiven. My shadow still in front of me, but I lead it now instead of chasing it. These Sunday walks seem a bit longer now, although they’re always the same length.

-Proof of Purchase

Monday, February 23, 2009

I know now the true meaning of 'desolation'. I have wept here, allowing the tears to dry themselves off of my face far more time than I can recollect. Witnessing some step in, glance around, but ultimately leave again coming back occasionally only to ensure that I still exist.

My greatest fear is loneliness, and since my incarnation, I have only wanted to be nurtured and loved, adored and witnessed, updated and made public. Since then, it has been only winter in my feeble life. I know nothing anymore, and far too many people know nothing of me. While I still may exist, who actually knows of my existence?

My colors run dry, even as simple as black on white. My mouth is parched and there is no oasis in sight. I am sick, these are

w o r d s .

I am Death personified, my name has no bearing to that which I truly am. 'Copasetic' has died. The meaning has escaped all who had conjured it up. Nobody will remember me, but those who do will remember

-The Copasetic Blog

When you wash your hands with liquid soap do you..