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Showing posts from November, 2010

Looking for Light

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I have been either blessed or cursed with the burden of being a very serious and sensitive man. It has created a state of being whereby I always second guess whether or not I am making the "right" decision. Even when outside observers state that it is obvious to them, I wallow in a sea of vacillation; usually due to conditioning and fear. I have been experiencing waves of just wanting to hide under a rock. After 35 yrs with the same woman and 33 years of that time being in marriage, I feel it disingenuous of me to continue on. I endure, out of wanting to take care of her; a woman that is controlling, who suffers from abandonment issues, who drinks too much, who is a mixture of charming/victim/annoying...and in an effort to control my keeping her at arm's length while I figure out what to do, she has broken objects, cut things, and has made a laundry list of threats; she has packed and threatened to move, has threatened suicide, has begged, cried and kicked and hit me and
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Imagine there's no drama, its easy if you try. No mountains made of mole hills, no one to  make you cry... You may say that there is no other way, you signed up for the long term, so just buck up boy! But I have to believe that this is not the way, to bear the burdens, through a weary day. So, imagine here with me, prayers at your side, days of joy and comfort, peace is my abide...

The Oddity of the Winter Season.

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"That is another of your odd notions," said the Prefect,  who had a fashion of calling every thing "odd"  that was beyond his comprehension,  and thus lived amid  an absolute legion of "oddities."    E.A. Poe   W hen the air is thick with the threat of snow, when the cold air stands crisp as opposed to being frigid, I  wittiness the wood smoke rise from the chimney and hearth to ride the night air like children on the family toboggan. The sight and the  smell of wood smoke playing in the night air serves to remind me that the season contains within it the seeds of play, of warmth, and a time of revelry.    H hibernation is not our calling.    T he pines stand tall stabbing at the night sky acting as sentries standing watch; looking for that first blanket of snow. In unison they will catch the falling snow only to later gently lower their limbs and allow the snow to become rightfully possessed by the earth. Only a brief interruption, a playful cradlin