The story, our story so rich in detail and drizzled with passion, sits in my heart's bosom. It's raw, like an angry wound that silently screams for attention. It's embedded in my viscera. You, Pilot, live in the most visceral and primal of my planes of existence. Beloved, something so visceral, so deeply intertwined within my being ~ I cannot so easily retrieve.
Our story ~ it's like a circle, Pilot. No beginning, no end. Just a [deceivingly] simple-looking euclidean shape. There's a touch of divinity, a touch of perfection, in a circle, isn't there, Pilot? I think so ... I think so. Still ... how do I tell such a story? Where does an entity with no beginning, begin?
Sunday, June 01, 2008
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This means challenging my self to compassionate, encouraging, genuine and hostile-free exchanges. It also means contemplating my reaction to the thoughts, feelings and expressions of others, prior to acting upon them. 
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