Such simple and exquisite honor there is in cancelling my subscriptions, like scattering bread to the ducks. Let them eat me up! Each handful tossed in nonchalance is the end of a stitched decade of stress.
May my disasters be like drops in an underground reservoir of the deepest oldest water of life. I am but a swallow nesting on the wall of the universe..
The rolling and rollicking nonsense of my mind is like the tune of a drunken fool, compared with the majesty of even the smallest breath. The tiny hairs on my arm are more interesting to me than my fears for the future. Oh how lost I am, and such relief!
It is as if my painted masks have all run into the stream...and their colors are as lost as their importance. I stand on the bridge, as life flows below me. My reflection is blurred and shattered by the sunlight! Glory be the surrendered dream! It is endless!