Sonnet

Life is a paradox A swirling mix of unwanted desires An endless failing to fit them all in a box Trying to foget what it requires. All of us are jaded In the pool of hypocrisy We have all waded We have all desired a little imcumbency Striving, straning, stressing Forgetting whats important Fighting against all that is depressing We become more and more reptant Yet, is there hope? Can we find a way to cope?

Once in awhile

Christofer and I had an arguement last night. Its very rare that we fight, and when we do it is usually a very long process. Christofer is the sort of person who, when some one says something unpleasant, clams up and it is a very rigorous and straining effort to drag thoughts from him. Sort of like pulling out a very stubborn tooth. So late into the evening, after I used all my usually tacts to get him to open up, we said sorry,goodnight, and kissed,it was only then that he moaned and rolled over, apparently he had a splitting headache the whole entire time and just forgot to mention it! Ahh, what to do with a husband who is more caring, more disciplined, more understanding, and most importantly more forbearing than one?!


One a different note. Its five in the morning and I am more awake than I have been in a long time. I awoke because I was hot, which is usually normal since I have a built in water bottle in my bed, he is very convenient during the chilly winter months, but otherwise can cause me to overheat just a bit. I opened the window for some fresh air, and to my surprise I saw a very bright, very close star, it even had five points. I know stars don't have points, but this was the first time I have ever seen a star resembling five points. It was stunning, enlightening and rendered me insomniac. Which brings me to my current state, sitting on the couch with our apple that is giving light to the otherwise dark and gloomy morning. Looks like it might be a rainy day since the sun should be poking its head up by now. Perhaps someone forgot to wake him, if it is a he, it, the sun I mean, always seems to resemble a he in stories, poems, and songs, but than again, it could very much be a her. Perhaps I should try to get some more sleep. It is after all still very early...

wash away my anxiety wash away my prejudices wash away my pride wash away my longing for the world wash away my laziness wash away my despire make me pure set me free