Friday, March 23, 2007

the failure of rain

Friday, March 23, 2007
the failure of rain?
"eh?"
why? rain's so perfect in every way!
"ahhhh - but one, my sweet."
what's that?
"it fails to lift my spirits
when they require such."

its raining torrents from the sky. the heavens gave us a reprieve of about 34 minutes. and then they opened up again. torrents of rain. dancing on the old wrinkled tin of the downspouts. large drops of rain slap themselves onto the shingles outside our open window. the melody i have heard for days. spring has arrived. oh, i know it has! it has chased that nasty, damp winter chill from the breezes here. and it has brought with it a symphony of pinks, alabasters, greens, reds, and yellows. and some other colours i've failed to mention, no doubt. and the ducks! a very sassy looking mallard, with his lovely graceful mate. they've come home.

coming home. when do we come home to ourselves? why do we run, so? what's so terrible, so horrific, that we must drown it out by meddling with destructive forces? by tempting the devil inside ourselves? when do we embrace ourselves? for the little graces and joys of our SELF? why so quick to self judge? to completely throttle one's own feeling of worth? why take such heart in errs, and not so much in victories, graces and joys? just wondering out loud. as i build my 40 acres.

i did not complete to assignment. i mean, not really. the instructor gave me a 'sample' ... yeah. when i asked him to take some time with me and walk me thru the stuff i don't get, he gave me a sample. and told me to review it. and compare my own. and then ... if i had any questions ... uh-huh. riiiight. i get the hint. and it only took me a hour or so to figure out just exactly what i should do with that sample. and i handed in the assignment. and said, "it helped me finish on time. i do not know any more than i did before, however." and made my retreat.

i felt like crying. i felt like a failure. sure, i will get an almost perfect score. but to my own self, i failed. and i felt slighted, quietly, for the brush job he gave me. its like ... he did not want to take the time with me ... the way he does with the others. like .... a barrier exists between us. a sort of 'remains of the day' barrier to communicating. @ times like this i tell myself i am overreacting and confabulating. but ... i really sense some psychic/chemistry-type energy there. i do not know what that's all about. but i hate it if it impedes my learning.

i gotta quit pot on monday. i don't wanna. but this time i gotta. its getting way out of hand. its ridiculous. its too costly @ this time. and i feel like that sleep paralyzed person that wakes up in the midst of a deep sleep and can't move her body. its humiliating. frustrating. its the failure of rain.

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