The truth is that we are all potential fossils still carrying within our bodies the crudities of former existences, the marks of a world in which living creatures flow with little more consistency than clouds from age to age.

~Loren Eiseley

Truth, more painful than fiction

and soon you will be gone, disappeared, leaving a meandering path of lies. no phone, no email, a connection lost. words trusted, words of love, a meaning skewed, foreign to the lips from which they come. for if the words were true then truth would be said, but as it stands, the foundation built is crumbled, built on lies. for lies are weak, and from weakness they come, leaving bitter distaste, and unresolved emotions.

how can something beautiful turn odium?

move on your merry way, leaving hearts bandaged, spit out by the same lips which were once so sweet, and held such joy, which now spew sewage, contaminating those within range.

the joy you once brought and the moments shared, are now tattered illusions of what was once real. A flawed fantasy, for it simply bides time, goals and aspirations unmet, the used cast aside.

a means to an end and nothing more?

Late night

Papers to edit, things to do and I bake. What more could one want to do when stressed and not caring. My adviser sat down next to me at a seminar today and I was pleased b/c I never see him and I thought it would be nice to chat. However, shortly after sitting down he asks about the project and what I'm doing and I started to get nervous b/c it didn't seem like I was giving him the answer he wanted. Not what I was expecting, not enjoyable.

On the brighter side, Katye is coming to visit on Friday for the weekend. It will be nice to see her. It's been almost a year, yet it seems like yesterday we were hanging out at Brian's talking about life, the universe, and everything. It was nice to be distracted and get to plan a get-a-way for the weekend. Friends are what make each day worth while.

Sorrow of today and tomorrow

The weather coincides with her emotions as the rain drops like tears from the clouds, but unlike the clouds, her sorrow lingers. Overcast clouds dim the sky a dull grey as the green leaves dance intercepting the drops of falling water.

How can something once so beautiful be cast away unwanted and unloved? Like any living thing this has an impact, impacting a weak being already struggling to keep going, although she no longer wants to....

but time continues to pass and she hear the voices of others, saying time will ease the pain, but all she knows id that time keeps passing and things just become more complex. If she could only walk away... but where would she go? It is going to follow her now, no matter where she is.

Why look to that which hurt her, for he said he cared. A friend, that is what he said, requesting to stay in her life. Will she ever learn, that his words have no validity, for his actions do not display the same sentiment. Perhaps eventually, she will move forward and stop moving in circles. For it is a familiar pattern, tat he initiated and she followed.

When will she not feel like the victim? Soon, she hopes... when she finds the answer she feels she so desperately needs.

The air is feeling a bit warmer

Today was the first day that actually felt like spring. Although it is the middle og April and warm weather should have coome sooner, in my humble opinion, the winter weather has been slow to leave. The weekend forecast looks promising and I am eager to go for a mountain ride... if all goes well. It seems like the best reasont o take a break of work.

So, with spring inthe air, I took a few pix of the flowers. The african violet I bought shortly after moving to Greenville has finally started to flower. I was so excited to see the delicate shoots emerging from under the velvety leaves a few weeks ago. They have finally made it all the way out and are bring much needed joy and happiness to the apartment.

Outside the landlord came a few weeks ago and mowed the chaotic mixture of grass and weeds. It made the yard too so much larger, for some reason. In appreciating the sun and warmer weather this morning, I noticed these little yellow flowers that have emerged from the sparsely vegetated ground. They were each unique and so happy, I had to include them as well. As spring moves forward and the sun's warmth generates more flowering, I hope to share those moments with you as well.

Broken

What is it that makes life so hard? It seems that as we age, things become more and more hard.... it makes it difficult to enjoy the good times that briefly occur sporadically. Instead of the fit hitting the shan on those rare occasions, I feel like I'm being pelted continuously.

It seems like a reciprocal relationship... as our health deleteriously decreases with age, we have to deal with combating larger and larger obstacles. Should we have not done this when we were younger and more resilient? Because I feel like I'm trying to be broken.... and truthfully, I could give a sh*t as to endure it.

What's it all for? No matter if one takes the to research and consciously try to make good decisions, they get f*cked! I don't get it. I'm not trying to play the martyr here.... I just don't get it.

I just feel like I've put up a good and I don't think I have the motivation to endure much more. Truthfully, I don't really think it makes a f*cking difference.

Ecological intricacies and their understanding is important to the welfare of both humans and the earth.

Circularity of life's emotions

She stares, as her mind wanders, all the while trying not to think. Surrounded by a field of wild flowers, her sorrow keeps her from enjoying the moment. This moment like other will pass, yet the sorrow does not diminish.

In class, her professors talk, but she fails to hear them. She is consumed by all that she cannot change, a life half lived with no motivation to continue.

Has she lost hope? For she feels hopeless, as though there us no point in living. Like a molecule of water being moved in the circular motion as a wave approaches shore, never moving close, just returning to the same place.