Saturday, March 14, 2009

One of those perfect rainy, writing nights

I keep finding myself in these spots where I can see the lit path & I can see the complacent, yet still moving one. I suppose my flesh and the influence of this world we're in urges me that the lit path is a false since of hope. No being could ever provide the things we desire. It is almost as if we are determined to prove that the Matrix is everywhere, that Zion is even a Matrix.

I've stared at the lit path for far to long & been afraid of losing my wit & smarts on that path, but these other parts aren't going anywhere either, so what'll it hurt.

This is healing.

I love when community hits you in the face & you feel safe with these people that aren't blood. What amazing things people who refuse the light miss out on.



5 years later I think I'm finally appreciating the anchor to the extent I should have ages ago.

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