It's funny, I drink hot tea more than 2 times daily but each time it's just as surprising. The process of making it definitely comes in as a factor. If it's among friends there is the initial small talk pre-boiling water. Making tea for someone else has to be by far one of the most permagrin-worthy things. But, just now, making it for myself after dinner, I wasn't expecting much. I boiled the water, picked out my tea, set it up, began steeping..

I came back approx 2-3 minutes later to dive in. Boy, did I dive in. I am insta-relaxed and my senses feel as if they've been re-tuned.

I used to be able to vaguely express my thoughts but I'm quickly losing my ability to do so. Instead, I am possibly releasing them onto the shoulders of those who do not need it.

But, a part of me is missing. I have been feeling it a lot in the past few days, especially today. My words weren't lining up the way I saw them. I can feel the world trying to pry me up, though.

I can feel it in my taste buds and in my vocal chords.

If I could spend every day exercising my vocal range by letting it reverberate against high ceilings and kitchen appliances, life would make sense. I could do without most other things. My fingers could permanently smell like cilantro, tomatoes, lemon, fresh basil and I would be eternally glad. I don't need anything else to complicate things.

So much of what is occurring lately feels like I'm semi-permanently living in a state of déjà vu.

PS I have the coldest feet in the world, always..and not in a metaphorical sense. Also, all Christmas music is doing for me this year is making me cry. I wish you were here to sing Come Thou Fount, Erin.

I tossed the topsy-turvy upside down butterflies into the atmosphere expecting them to disintegrate...it didn't work and now they're just jamming everything up.

Please remind me of how/why this was fair.. ??

Someone tell me how to feel. I'm not doing a very good job.

"Show me a man anywhere in the whole wide world who knows and loves clouds more than I! Or show me anything more beautiful. They are a play thing and comfort to the eye, a blessing and a gift of God; they also contain wrath and the power of death. They are as delicate, soft, and gentle as the souls of newborn babes, as beautiful, rich, and prodigal as good angels, yet somber, inescapable, and merciless as the emissaries of death. They hover as a silvery film and sail past smiling and gold-edged; they hang poised, tinged yellow, red, and blue. Darkly, slowly they slink past like murderers, roaring head-over-heels like mad horsemen, drooping sadly and dreamily in the pale heights like melancholy hermits. They assume the shapes of blessed isles and guardian angels, resemble threatening hands, fluttering sails, migrating cranes. They hover between God's heaven and the poor earth like beautiful likeness of man's every yearning and partake of both realms--dreams of the earth in which the sullied soul cleaves to the pure heaven above. They are the eternal symbol of all voyaging, of every quest and yearning for home. And as the clouds are suspended faint heartedly and longingly and stubbornly between time and eternity.
O lovely, floating, restless clouds! I was an ignorant child and loved them, watched them, little knowing that I would drift through life like a cloud--voyaging, everywhere a stranger, hovering between time and eternity. Ever since childhood they have been my dear friends and sisters. There is not a street I cross without our nodding and greeting each other. Nor did I ever forget what they taught me then: their shapes, their features, their games, their roundelays and dances, their repose, and their strange stories in which elements of heaven and earth mingled."-From Peter Camenzind by Herman Hesse

Unreal moments really screw with the fact I know I don't have time to feel right now. Maybe another time, another place, other people...but not right now, please.

The clouds, my security blanket, have been scattering to let the sun melt across the sky and work to clear my senses...I'm so frightened and exposed.

We need to shake up routine every now and then...we need to delete all sleep some nights only to sleep all day the next....we need to have a day overflowing with bad luck only to have tomorrow dropping dollops of good luck all over the place...sometimes the end to another friendship only is to be followed with bright new ones sprinkling sunshine all over my senses...

happiness is abundant...life as of late is crunchy leaves and dancing on the esplanade and a beautiful 4 year old named Noa(h) leaping into my arms and wednesday stickers...

:-)