17 May 2005

Sometimes my heart weighs as much as the world. Sometimes a thought dwells in me as if lost in the sea, in depths that crush a man. I try not to dwell in these gravities, but how they drag the whole of my being so that I may not move to brighter fields. Too, I have been in times where I feel as if I were going to float off into the clouds, when I feel that light, but they seem to inspire less the poet in me. (Rare, I think, the poet whom those kind of times do inspire.) But do not sit here and listen to someone who is so down but not oppressed. Complaining put into flowery words makes it not so that the dirt that is dug up is any more nutritious to digest. Go outside and play, for somewhere in the world it is a sunny day, and a blue sky welcomes all who would have adventure.

posted by John H. Doe @ 12:01 am

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