:: anne in the attic ::

::::: ANNE IN THE ATTIC :::::

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:: Monday, December 12, 2005 ::

I am falling in space. Surrounded by everything I love, all of it reduced to its mass, fallible through its matter. And I am told, "Get used to it." One of the Taoist teachings is that all sorrow is bound up in our attachments and that letting go relieves sorrow. I love the freedom of that thought, but somehow can't bear the loneliness of it. Solitude, fine-- alone, yes-- but not loneliness. And without attachment, that's how I am. I just am. We wouldn't do this to music, would we? -- Remove all the unharmonious until we're left with a simple melody? And simple is fine, except that repeated by itself, it seems more like a prayer, a heartbeat. Pure and empty thoughts are lovely and peaceful, but give me some passion, something to yearn for-- some dissonance to resolve and flood me with gratitude. Show me the flaws in the branches of the tree and I will show you the most beautiful parts of the tree. And if it whispers my name and I call out, then we have music. And then I am flooded with gratitude. And I am falling in space.

:: Anne 9:23 PM [smartass remarks] ::
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