Release

Excercise.
The only means to escape from the pressure.
I run often, swim almost as often, and bike most often.
But the moments when I am pouring it on
Are the moments I am pouring it out.
Stress, worry, regret merge with each sweat drop
and surface in silence.

I am waiting for silence.

Somebody Loved

Nights when the heat had gone out
We danced together alone
Cold turned our breath into clouds
We never said what we were dreaming of
But you turned me into somebody loved

~ The Weepies

Hope

I use the word hope often, too often maybe. Why? Perhaps because I lack a large vocabularly and hope seems to fit a variety of contexts. I hope you are having a great day. I hope the sun comes out. I hope to see you soon. I hope to get a new car. Hope can be passive in the sense of a wish, or active through plan or idea. There are many things I hope for - things for myself, things for others, things for environment - but in all hope is filled with positive conotation and so I think I'll keep using it.

Le acque del mio baia

I am melancholy. I have struggled, resisted, pleaded and eventually acknowledged my tendencies to slip into dismal abyss. But acknowledging is different then accepting. It's a self-induced downward spiral the role melancholy plays. I slide into sorrow and then become painfully more sorrowful because I feel I can't do anything about it; That I lack the ability to lift my face out of the dirt long enough to see the light and crawl towards it. Instead I recognize that I am face first in a pile of sludge and then wail more heavily, inhaling the darkness deeper. Devotion to change takes diligence without assurance. Though I may never have full control over whether my life will continue to resemble Yosemite's geographical landscape, I hold tight to the challenge. Somewhere in my brain, the miniscule part that has been miraculaously uninfected by melancholy's touch, knows that I am capable of "deciding how I will spend my time, whom I will interact with, whom I will share my life and money and energy with. I can select what I eat and read and study. I can choose how I am going to regard unfortunate circumstances in my life - whether I will see them as curses or opportunities (and when I can't rise to the most optimistic viewpoint...I can choose to keep trying to change my outlook). I can choose my words and the tone of voice in which I speak to others. And most of all I can choose my thoughts."

I once heard a prayer that goes like this, "God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.” I know that I can not change the personality that I was given but through God's strength I can learn to stumble instead of plummit. I tell myself, "Le acque della baia mio è mio" (The waters of my bay are mine).

Flames to purge the Brain

I want to set fire to the rain.
I want to burn away the pain.
I want to sear this rusty chain.
I want to set a blaze to this scarlet stain.
I want to torch the rails of this runaway train.
I want to char the memories that render me insane.
I want to scorch the regret running through these veins.