

closei looked into your eyesclose
and the light flashing in them dazzled me. An oblong web, a superhero's mask, splitting into two perfectly round webs, intricately woven.
You blinked and they split again,
becoming snowflakes with distinctly different individual patterns, then split again into multifaceted gemstones.
i felt close to you so i pulled away to write it down.
dwtfywwi


The Price of FreeThe price of free is oft subtle. A whisper of gossamer on breeze, chased by storms, and rains and winds can bring mere mortals to their knees, and yet may remain outstanding.The Price of Free
DWTFYWWI


MotherWanting to be close to you, All my days i spent longing, sighing, Angry, crying. You were there, but i was a shadow, an afterthought, sooner forgotten, a burden you weren't meant to bear, and i'd reach out, to be brushed away, or you would, to be rebuffed.Mother
But the happiest moments i can recall were spent in your arms, feeling your fingers in my hair, sun on my face, grass under my half-clad, tanned body, buzzing bees, whispering trees, and you were the first deity i ever knew, beautiful, more radiaant than he, jealous sun, eclipsed by you. &
--
This Signature is Retroactive. Srsly.
How was your holiday? Mine was ok, twirled around the twin towns. Wishing you and yours a very happy and prosperous New Year, you deserve it.
Love,
--
~mu
There's not enough of that in this world--grokking, i mean. We choose our idols, and expect them to not have clay feet, then abandon them when we do; other times we discover the whole idol is nothing more than a plastic facade, and stubbornly cling to them, until we become caught up in a plasticing dream, becoming plastic, ourselves. Then other times, we love and worship and grok, seeing someone for who they are, in all their shit, and all their glory. This is the most honest love, i think. When we love, like, appreciate someone, grok them, grok with them, not just for what they are great, and beautiful, and holy, and good, and not in spite of what they are not, and in spite of what they are, their dark sides, their ugliness, their secrets they never tell, their shit, but because of these things, as well as the beauty and light, and glory...this i think is the most honest love. But it is also the most dangerous; it is this sort of love that blinds us to the games people play--and sometimes those games are malicious.
i'm not sure i'll ever be in love, like that, again; in fact, i'm not sure i'll ever be in love again, period; and that's just fine. Why should i mourn what is not, when everything that is, is perfect, and moreso in its imperfection? i'm at a really good place, with myself, and my friends, whom i adore, in all their shit, and all their glory, and who adore me in all my shit, and all my glory. i'm finally at a place where i don't feel i have to watch my back around my friends, and that feels good. i mean, yes, sometimes my friends hurt my feelings, and sometimes i even weep, when it happens; but because they understand what it is to be friend, i know in my heart it isn't intentional, when it happens.
What a treasure it is, to have not one, but a few good friends with whom i can be totally real, in all my shit and all my glory, and not worry that some "friend" will use it against me. Most people will never have that, even should they live a thousand lifetimes.
--
~mu
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