December 2005

“Uncouth and lined with gold, a heart with many aches. Inseams from left to right bringing along fevering blight. Threaded with strands of silver encased in a thrice prison. Murmur here, a quiver there, no voice exists, O but bliss. Perchance some air or certe perhaps glinted signs of light. Choking and gasping, no one knows and no one cares. Signs of desperation are not noticed as the tears run dry. Thoughts are for one lover, considerations are for two.”

As lovers, you take each other in sweet embrace knowing that your love is undying and appreciated mutually. As you both engorge in a fanatic lovers twine, some realize all there that exists is love. One may question compatibility whilsts the other is captivated as they dream of dreams. All lovers fret but at times, you realize you both are not meant for one another. Love that person to only see them gone. If you hold on, both of you will be like rocks under a river bed weathering together but perchance, one rock will weather a saturated hue as both will not grey in unison. With that knowledge, the only reason one person has not been washed to shore is self-pity for the others happiness. Such a sacrifice but who will think of you whilsts you are too busy anticipating for an unjust cause? Ignorance is bliss for loving someone who loves you for pity sakes. Such gyse you have brought forth whilsts playing an advocate for Louie. Your heart learns to love and shall love for merit. Tortured by your own devices, you find solas in blank books for you have written none.

I do not know why I have chosen this path to farther demoralize myself self-consciously and physically. I know not why I have nor do I have it within to banish the shadows that plague this encased body. I have shown great manner and appreciation to and towards a many- bound to nothing; I am free.

In fine glances, I see nothing and feel there is no need for etching due notes. For to keep note, it is like writing in the air with quill but no parchment. Useless scribing of graced limb to no ends met. I find myself in a constant battle of epic proportions between truth and fantasy. I see truth. Things that are, will be; things that are instill are devoid; things that have shape, will have none. As the wind thrashes and howls, sand will be sand and does not compliment nor does it yield to the wind. Sand will be sand. It moves ever so lightly yet so abrasive; each grain of sand.

No matter what song is sung, it never seems to be in synced with such luscious rhythm: rhythm of chasteness. It is so and it will be. To impregnate a prism with soft caresses does nothing as such a prism bears no goost to reflect what has already been hinted. You are voiceless to a box that has-noth ample resonance.

The desire, shapeless; fares like flickering flames abound that dances and sways with the lightest breathe. Desires are like the clouds splashed upon the horizon never knowing what shape to take upon itself to become. Moved by the heavens, it has no will of it’s own but rather, it is surreal in nature and carves it’s own path. It flows unbroken in it’s formation and tends to drede the direction it happens to be leading. Blind it is.

Well, our yard isn’t too impressive like many others like
us;) We decided to do something about it and got concrete
borders done professionally to finish off our yard! I must
say, it’s quite dazzling! Now I’m going to go buy a lot of
greens and try to plant them? yah!!! Check out the photos
below- you will like them as much as I do.. Enjoy!