Â§hria's Spot

The sum of all things is an infinite conjugation of the verb to do -- Thomas Carlyle

And what is there to do but to transpose the mundane into the mythical world of dreams made real. I am restless. I am anxious to get on with verbalizing... with doing... with being what I aim to be.

Let me drink deep from the cup of life. Let me stick a straw in and suck out every last drop of vital fluids. I will drive it deep, deeper than the knife of Romeo. Deeper than the darkest night of clouded, moonless wonder.

Let it begin NOW!

I am tired of waiting.

I want to burn in the fire of his embrace, to be utterly and completely consumed. I want to be, once again, deafened by the thunder of his heart. I want, again, for my sight to be absolutely eclipsed by his most radiant beauty.

Promises made in the heat of passion are standing like monoliths. Upwards they thrust from the cold ashes of my faded hopes and desolate longings. Strongly they stand and draw toward them the shimmering suggestion of a new dawn.

I believe!

For the first time in many years, I hold hope upon my tongue with pleasure and wonder at the lack of bitterness. The taste is sweet, salty and sort of mushroomy.