"...everybody knows- you'd break your neck to keep your chin up..."

First cup of coffee over the RSS feed. (It is becoming my new favorite thing.) Picking up your news and their news and trying to find some of my own.

Philosophical Question #8062: Why are we all not drowning in this informational sea?

Flipping forward over the other things I check: gmail, facebook, biblegateway.

‘you will seek me and find me when you seek me with your whole heart.’

Shit. My whole heart? What about the parts I don’t want to share?

Reviewing the technicalities is daunting.

Or, say, don’t back down. Getting to the bottom of me is much easier than getting to the bottom of all of Him.

***

You’d be so proud of me. I came to a conclusion. A real, written conclusion. 

*** 

Running, yesterday: turn left out the back door, right at the access, down towards the beach.

Hitting sand.

Hitting a complete and utter wall of fog.

It’s an interesting situation when you can’t see where you’re going. It’s a mind-boggling situation when it’s at 1:30pm on a Tuesday afternoon.

I could see the sun, sort of.

I could see the dunes, sort of.

I could just make out the breakers.

I could see 25 feet in any direction down the beach.

Another runner appeared and disappeared out of the fog.

So, this is loneliness.

***

'I see nothing. I see a boy who chews off the ends of his fingers and bleeds ink.'*

***

Wrapping still around my fingertips

And travelling downward to my palms,

my hands.

Retelling the history

or something

like your child’s favorite game:

“Now this finger.

Now that.

Pull tight.

Look!

A cradle for your cat!”

I was never good at games

this, at least, you should already know.

I lose on the slightest technicalities,

trading pressure for coffee mug

and letting it all kind of go.

***

If this conversation was never repeated, 

never written down:

no one would know it existed.

How many are like this?

Where do they go?

When the fire of their words is spent? 

*Barbara Kingsolver, The Lacuna