Saturday, December 31, 2011

Souvenirs

The chatter of the coffeeshop against the rain falling outside was a welcome change to the dreadful silence that filled his home.  A ceramic tile used to lay above the kitchen sink, and on it was a simple sketch in muted colors of a tiny house.  Beneath it, the caption read, "Home is where the heart is." For him, it used to be the house on Honeysuckle, and before that, NE 113th St.  But where is it now?

"Home is where the heart is."

The truth is it lives in the past, in happier and stabler times free from the burdens of "the real world," and it lives in the beautiful realm of possibility that never came to be in his particular strand of reality.  So he wanders alone in search of that that never was.

* * *

幸福

For the new year, I would like to jump out of my shadow, overcome Fear, and stumble upon (or into) Truth and Love.  And regardless if the world should come to an end by the end of the year, I'd like to find myself with someone with whom I could share all that I have and all that I am so that neither of us would have to burn alone.

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