An excerpt from a letter I wrote the other day:

Yesterday E & I sat drinking orange spice tea on a couch in her backyard as the sun went slowly down, setting through her hoo-la-hoop [the earth turned and she stood still] and we talked and took black & white photos of one another’s globe-like pupils. After it was dark we turned on the radio in her year-we-were-born beamer and we listened to haiku & blues while sitting on the trunk of that sweet machine watching the whispering of trees; every now and then turning to ground ourselves in each other’s eyes. As we sat on that cold metal the sky spoke Rorschach inkblots and told me that I should never worry, death is a movement & could only be quietness. Soon the rest of the house came wheeling through the darkness and we stood in the garage-lamp light smoking and I walked in circles with the hoop dressed around me, balanced on the back of my neck, slapping against my calves as I moved away from the others, turned, and came back, wading through thoughts it took Thoreau decades to come to.

I think I understand why people leave and go to the woods. I think I understand why it is something to do absolutely nothing. I think I understand why when people decide to check out and move to another level; that it is society’s self-preserving mechanism to label them as insane. I understand that, as Renoir said, “the awful thing about life is this: everyone has their reasons.” War is the result of these reasons being so completely opposite that people believe that the other must die.

I understand that clean is better than dirty; unity is better than panic; peace is better than war; good is better than bad; simple is better than complicated… Q. U. A. L. I. T. Y… a question that has a way of shaking the foundation of life, the meaning of everything. It is a difficult to think of value and what it means; it is dangerous territory to question the ground on which one stands.

I had a feel of life being a ocean-like tunnel though which I was moving. Most of the time too quickly to notice the ripples and movements of everything around me. Life is merely this present moment. This moment is a culmination of all the choices I have made up until this point & last night things s l o w e d down to a point where I understood that there are few things that matter: leaving a pleasant wake in which others can float and be moved by, creating more than you destroy and seeking a balance within oneself. Happiness is this balance.

In conclusion, I give you this:

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and this.


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