A funny thing about the world is that I didn't believe flowers grew in the winter. They obviously do. ...And then I find that my sadness has no well. It isn't anymore. Because the brightness has finally reached me. And it is well, for now there is not pain. Not as before.


I don't want to be crippled, but I am. I am. By my prejudiced opinions. By my psychic limitations. The things I cannot do, cannot say. By the things I want to do, want to say. Should do, should say. But can't.

They actually listened. To true things not by me. Not relevant, but interesting words. Good it is. To feel listening, people listening. No need for agreement, just listen. Hear me out, I hear you. Good it is.

 Clear the glass, not make it shine, but to show through what is, what is true. Clear the perception.

Short things I say, short but contentful. How I feel for these short phrases. They mean so much. They give through truth. What is true. What I believe is fully true. The only truth I know.

 You can never get it all. All is a great many bits and pieces you want. But you can't have them all. They wont fit together. The cry for something, the need and urge for something can sometimes not be combined with another urge. Though there is nothing I lack right now. No drinking this weekend, but I had fun anyway. There is nothing I don't have that I have a great need for. I have my love, my forum, my friends, my music. And I even have carefully selected moments of inner peace. What seems right might not be.

I wonder if I'll ever get any better at explaining anything, really?

There is a place you can go. It isn't much, you've been there before, and it's ugly. But please click.