Partial Love is Partial Hate

"...killed the part of me that loved you,"
she said to the pitiful fool
who once had the nonsense to believe
that the whole of her love did rule.

Now wearing stabbed heart upon
his sleeve, the fool has nothing to
believe, but only this to know:
wherever half-love lies, there too

                       does hatred grow.

Go Before Me to Make the Crooked Places Straight

Thank you, Love, for saving me from myself.  If it were ever obvious that I know not what I do...

Unholy Creation Through Opposites

To experience your absence
is a body without food:
I linger undead for a time
as if I've misunderstood.

Your withholding creates
the hungering of my soul
that can only be appeased
by the presence you control.

A Beautiful Song About Letting Go

Radiohead never fails to delight.  Listen to this song and weep.  Or rejoice.  Or, most appropriately, do both.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PPkhb8l8UNI

The Purpose of Past

I know without a doubt in this moment that the greatest act of courage is starting anew.  All that is old rises up against me in that moment of wanting to begin again - a tsunamic tidal wave set against my leaving behind the confines of the island of the past.  This idea of starting over is so cliche in our world today, and it is sentimentalized to such an extent, that there is virtually no awareness at all of the pain-staking determination, persistence, and effort required of the individual who knows that he can no longer remain who he has been up to this moment.

I know this to be true because I am working to start again right now.  Returning to this blog is an expression of that work.  I got a chuckle out of seeing some of the old things I wrote about on here.  Most of it seems to me to be naive, boring, and not too well focused.  Downright rambling and even embarrassing at times.  It seems I mistook this blog for a journal of sorts.  I was tempted to delete it all and start the blog over from scratch, but that would be a denial of who I have been, which, paradoxically, I have found to be the biggest stumblingblock to starting over.

The Real Reason (Love's Dead)

She thinks it might hurt me -
and maybe it does -
to read her reasons for
The End of our love.

Still, something's still worse than
being thus told...
Like clinging to reasons
for love turning cold.