Annabelle and Charlotte let drop many vital threads which led to their true identity. For all outward appearances, they were identical. For those who kept watch over disturbances in quiet country villages, they personified the end of time. The folly of either girl could extinguish the light of every star in the sky. Only half of the double vision would come through the trials alive. Abraham knew this when he made his offer to the sisters. As he entered the dense forest at the edge of town, Abraham held a slice of knowledge, sweet and deadly. Night was expected to present its champion on the morrow, and Abraham would place the prize upon her lips.
Semi-Daily Scribbles
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Go away, manufactured memory. I am in no mood to continue putting my faith in you. To my doom you will lead me if I don't bag up your confounding recollections and toss them on the heap with the rest of life's detritus (hair dye and pencil lead and toenail clippings and muskmelon rind.) The evil appeal of lingering over events that half-happened by happenstance is turning my insides out. Go away, manufactured memory. Lies are piled on top of lies until they lose the power to hypnotize. It is time to send history packing in search of a more reliable past. -
You make all the decisions
But they do not reach me in
Here
Fringe Time
Hard Cell
Scare the truth out of you
Bad Rhyme
Soft Sell
I'll show you a nice view
It's full of blood and promises
To make you stay
A wasted effort saved for
Another day
Don't let them see the
Wheels turning
They'll know your every
Move -
Stay inside on a nice day to observe the world through a smoky filter. Or, go outdoors and cross off the calendar the task of branching out. Spring-like weather fools the skin, but the brain says let me stoke the February fire a little longer. It is the way of nature, especially since we're rolling around in the early days of a horse-drawn year. However, keeping up with nature's wardrobe changes is a foolish sport. Stay inside. Go outdoors. The show sticks to a schedule which cannot be meddled with by a human's touch. -
Couriers emerge from the mist, fully informed of our situation and demanding our immediate attention. They know we've been chasing bad information, so Couriers come bearing roses along with stiff warnings to soften the blow. The time for shame has long since passed. A Courier is hard to miss, but rarely seen, and is in love with his own voice. It sounds like rain, so the appeal is understandable. To the uninitiated, exchanges between Courier and Novice look as though the lady of the house is having a rousing conversation with herself. There is more, of course, going on beyond first glance, but then we shouldn't be listening in on messages not intended for us. It is best to keep such meetings safely confined behind tall, unscalable garden walls. -
Learning to love is an ongoing process. A process that is sometimes simple; at other times it is a frustrating mystery. Finding compassion, understanding, and patience within ourselves requires courage. It takes even more heart to go deeper and to let go of the things we cannot change. Knowing we can only move forward with hope, every waking hour becomes an opportunity to accept and forgive. Acceptance and forgiveness form the foundation for love to take hold, where it can then be chosen, time and time again, over hate.
Semi-Daily Scribbles 