Posted on July 8, 2003 in Myths & Mysticism
God may not exist, but emotions are a real territory.
Posted on July 8, 2003 in Myths & Mysticism Thinking Writing
Life’s a guessing game. “We tell ourselves stories in order to live.” Was that Joan Didion or Anais Nin?
Posted on July 7, 2003 in Book of Days
I’m not in the mood for bashing former girlfriends. I’ve been pushing the pen and the keys on other subjects anyways.
Posted on July 7, 2003 in Blogging Courage & Activism Crosstalk Liberty
They might call this plan “evil”: tell them to tell that to Christ, the Buddha, and the rest of the great men and women of spirit.
Posted on July 7, 2003 in Biomes Neighborhood
In the evenings, rabbits — Western cottontails — come out of the coyote brush and dine on the lawn.
Posted on July 6, 2003 in Book of Days Citizenship Thinking
The country is in ruins and as some of us strive to reconstruct the beauty and the good of what was, others pull down bricks from the walls of civil gold and smash at our heads.
Posted on July 6, 2003 in Poems Writing Exercises
I laid out a cross deliberately.
With what fierce thirst for penance I have tried to mortify in myself the throbbing of the flesh, and make myself wholly transparent to the love of Jesus crucified.
Life’s greatest danger lies in the fact that men’s food consists entirely of souls.
Posted on July 6, 2003 in Gratitude
I’ve seen myself “linked” on some pages under the category “Pages that have referred to this page within the last twenty four hours”. I’ve been debating whether or not such people deserve a mention when I do these gratitude posts.
Posted on July 6, 2003 in Quizzes
What Is Your Animal Personality?
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Achoo! Good thing I shower twice daily. My own dander would kill me!
Shamelessly snatched from Mamageek.
Posted on July 6, 2003 in Festivals
We have turned against our country, lured to treason against our neighbors and friends by sales, everyday low prices, and convenience.
Posted on July 5, 2003 in Book of Days Childhood PTSD
At the beginning of 4th grade, my mother wondered who my teacher would be. “If it’s Sister Annette again,” I said, “I’m going to take out a gun and shoot her.”