Thoughts & Things I've Found

Thoughts... (Yesterday) .

• Is the opposite of Wisdom....Innocence? Or Ignorance? (I know which one I would prefer it to be, but which one is it? I suppose....well. It wouldn't be ignorance. Because to be wise is not to have knowledge, but knowledge & the experience of how to use it....plus a little more...something else, something different. To be intelligent or knowledgeable would be the opposite of 'to be ignorant.' But....to be wise......somehow, it seems to me, to be innocent, truly, is to have some wisdom....and those who are wise....often have a quality of innocence........ Although. I suppose they are not the same thing....when one is wise & when one is innocent....it is the air of peace or tranquility that is found in both. Not the experiences, themselves. Perhaps.

So............ I persist... Can anyone tell me, what is the opposite of Wisdom?

• I like frogs.

• Life is a spiral. But many lives...the nature of transcendence.....is circular....all things begin and end in the same place: continually. All beginnings are endings & are both happening AT ALL TIMES. (But that's not a new thought). However......both a circle & a spiral are made up of a 'line' of sorts...a line that runs into/feeds into itself or a line that twists and turns. Either way, a 'line.' And what is a line, but a trillion little points...dots...moments.... So....no matter where you are, in the spiral or circle..........or anything...even if it is a straight line as so many of us believe, with one beginning & one end point......is life not, truly, as everyone says (but few truly pay attention to what they are really saying)......just a trillion tiny instances....and shouldn't we, then, if each one is different & each the same & each part of something vastly greater, truly LIVE in each tiny dot or moment?

• Hmh. I like breathing. I should do that more often.

• I need to be outside more. Life is simpler when I'm outside. I'm more alive when I'm outside. (How is it my brain remembers that, ...but I forget...?).

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Things I've Found...

(The day before yesterday, I found many things I've written this year or earlier, on the backs of napkins, scraps of paper.....journals....receipts.....ugly things. lol. Sh*t like that. Here is some writing) :

"Sing me, sleeping in your arms

Read me again

Our hearts and hands

Entwined

Like water upon water

Sun on trees and sand

Let me sleep, always near you...

My true heart."

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"So, you're pretty? So you're handsome?

So...what?

Can you tell me a story? The kind I will wnat to read to my children's children? The kind I will wish to relive, over + over again + relate to my friends at night by the fire?

Can you make me BELIEVE in the fall of Rome, Joan's voices or that dragon's truly exist?

That Romeo & Juliet had a chance...if only? Make me believe that they TRULY loved. Go ahead, I dare you.

Can you move me to tears? To cry til I laugh & laugh til I cry?

Can you teach me to feel compassion for my enemy? And view him as brother? Sister?

...As myself?

If you cannot do this, and more, than you are nothing more to me than a pretty face.

And I will soon forget.

You."

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"In you, there is life!

There is fire & blood

and dirt & death & rebirth!

Gritty & lovely & pure!

There is something so profoundly beautiful, that none of your powders, perfumes, paints, rouges & Well-Chosen Words could ever rival it...

......or mask & cover it up.

Let it speak. For god's sake. 'Let it breathe, let it live!' "

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Note: ....(I wrote this a while ago. Though not so long as I would like).

DE LYON

" I will ride in you, my friend

The sea will hold us both,

Just like we promised

Just like we said

Just like we dreamed

When you were here

I will ride in you

I will name your name

and the world will know you

By the vessel that bears us

The sea will be purple

Just for you

Though I will be the only one

Who knows the blue of sadness

And the red of passion

That makes you whole again

in water

You will sail with me

In the wind and spray

When my thoughts hold you

Watching

You put your cigarette out in a paper bag

Searing it just to watch the smoke

Or preciously taking the tears from my face, saying

" Don't cry, Genevieve. "

And saving one to taste

Salt on salt

" Salty dog, salty dog... "

Your father never knew you.

...(such a cold, hard, cruel pity)...

But I know him now, because of you

And I know them now, because of you

And I hold a guitar now, because of you

And I speak in french, because of you

And I see in purple, because of you

And I am going.

Now.

Because of you.

And the sea will call us home. "

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I also found a very long letter & the end of a short 'story' of sorts. A poem that is a story.

But the one I need to find the first half to....

...And the other is not meant you your eyes. It belongs to the one it was written for.

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Goodnight.