07.07.13 (a retrospect)

You are tired,

(I think)
Of the always puzzle of living and doing;
And so am I.

Come with me, then,
And we'll leave it far and far away—
(Only you and I, understand!)

You have played,
(I think)
And broke the toys you were fondest of,
And are a little tired now;
Tired of things that break, and—
Just tired.
So am I.

But I come with a dream in my eyes tonight,
And knock with a rose at the hopeless gate of your heart—
Open to me!
For I will show you the places Nobody knows,
And, if you like,
The perfect places of Sleep.

Ah, come with me!
I'll blow you that wonderful bubble, the moon,
That floats forever and a day;
I'll sing you the jacinth song
Of the probable stars;
I will attempt the unstartled steppes of dream,
Until I find the Only Flower,
Which shall keep (I think) your little heart
While the moon comes out of the sea.

e.e. cummings

i'm not all too certain if you and i are the only two with an escape plan; though i do believe we have it for the same reason that [they] do not understand ours.  you used to say:  montana.  i'm moving to montana to become a gas attendant.  you can become a waitress and i'll read hemingway while you read kerouac.

we always talk about that escape plan - don't we?, but it's never together (you and me).  so seldom do we (the independent you and the independent me) do anything with other people and feel as though we are with them.  most of the time we feel alone.  our own solitary confinement i suppose (who needs a prison when you already have one).  i'd say let's try something together - but the idea of you saying "no" is enough for me to not ask and find joy in knowing you exist.

i've found my peace, my happiness.  a sort of contentment with the universe.  (you want to mess with me, cool.  but, know this:  i will fight back with a fierce force that only God provides those who want to love...  and i want to love.)  

so....    i will find that flower (for you), and will always pray for both our hearts to be happy - in the ways that only they may be.