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I walk over dried worms, the day after rain, and wonder if their lives (defined by these last moments) were courageous or moronic. I wonder if I am the splinter or the lion—and who would be the splinter? Doesn't someone have to be?
I crawl on my hands and knees to find the river. Trees grow from its overflow. There has been too much rain this week. There has been too much rain this week. Where are the silver linings—the tree in front of me grows proudly as the water laps around its thighs. Ah, I muse, I think I understand the splinter.
Two trains come by. Two trains thunder through this railroad town, and they whisk the chocolate dirt. The earthquakes scare the geese. They blow by like dried leaves, and there, there is the sound of the river. Here [in the stillness] is the display of hope.
I cry in front of the river, longing to sing alongside chickadees—I do not know enough happy songs. I cough with the crows, instead: I do not know enough happy songs.
But I know train songs, leaving songs, lonely songs, wounds-bleeding-out songs, and maybe they will water the dirt and grow a happy tree. Maybe it will grow somewhere there isn’t supposed to be a tree, or a river will migrate somewhere there isn’t supposed to be a river—perhaps we are everything we are not—and someone will pass by it, take a breath, and feel like they can hold it for another year.
When I crawl to find the sun, I grab a broken bush end. My hands are cracked, hibernating with the dead grass, the dried leaves. I wonder if it is perhaps stillness before the flight—the growth. Oh, I smile, I think I understand the splinter.
Gods, remember way back when I used to do Soulstain Saturday music shares? I'm bringing them back. Some of you may be groaning. I probably won't update every Saturday as was tradition... maybe once a month. I've been especially feeling music, lately. For new people: hello. Maybe you'll want to unwatch my journals, but Soulstain Saturday is an awful display of alliteration for the purpose of sharing music that slips inside my soul and stays for tea. I usually only share one song, but it's been quite a while since I've officially shared a soulstain.
You're more than welcome to slip some of your favorite music into the comments. In the past, I've loved grabbing a coffee and exploring different genres and emotions. You'll learn I'm partial to indie, but my music tastes spread all the way from classical to rap, rock, jazz, etc. I'm always looking to explore, especially what other people find meaningful.
I've been following vocals as they reverberate into frosty air - like the last breath, a sacred thing. I've been doing a lot of self work. I release pent up emotion through music. Music is a beautiful, beautiful addition to our world and I enjoy many shades and faces of it. Here are some close to my heart. Music gives me echoing company for pretty much any emotion I'm feeling. Maybe some of you will find company or connection in these. And if people don't like these, feel free to let me know, too! I just enjoy music, but I don't need to share it here as a journal.
I'll be getting to my notes soon, for those who have left some for me. Apologies. I forgot how many events are in December, for me. Too many birthdays in close proximity - lots of late nights. I've returned home after 3am a little too often this month for my old-woman mind, who likes me to get about 10 hours of sleep if I'm to be remotely awake the next day. I don't often achieve that, so then people get graced with little ol' excessive-rambling, yawning, overcaffeinated(or undercaffeinated) me. Hello. My eyes are aching a bit and I think I might toddle off and faceplant somewhere soft-ish, soon.
This will probably be my last journal of the year. My best wishes to everyone over this coming week. Stay safe!
22 years growing. Forest-dweller, friend of the moon, shy hermit crab... a pagan, seeking. I howl to coyotes at 1 in the morning and am a self-proclaimed music-swimmer (mostly, I drown). Admittedly, I'm not very interesting, but I am fairly friendly. Feel free to drop me a line. Or a poem. Or your favorite song.
my activity on this site can be compared to guerilla warfare:
I'm currently attending school while working as a research assistant in two projects. (Why yes, I need to learn how to say "no" sometime. But it's bringing in the money.)
trees, racing rivers, singing poorly to the moon, Lord Huron, Dead Poets Society, Pride and Prejudice, ambiguity.
nullibicity: n. - the state of being nowhere; non-existence.
My favorite word-weaver (I'm biased and not sorry):
Favorite moviesdead poets society, pride & prejudice, wild, into the wildFavorite TV showsschitt's creekFavorite booksa walk in the woods, jane eyreTools of the Tradeshaking hands and a growing mindOther Interestsphilanthropy, becoming a tree, trees, and trees. oh, look: trees