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Finding Tomorrow Do we all go on a journey to find tomorrow? Or do some of us, like idiots or straw men simply wait for tomorrow to become today?   Or were some of us lucky enough to know what tomorrow would be like early yesterday? Which one are you? Are you like me? I am one of those who belong to none of those categories, having had much of my tomorrows dictated by this body.  I was one of those who should have disappeared ages ago, except I was lucky enough to be much loved, and those people fought to have me stay, for however long I could stay.  But they're gone now, those people who fought for me.  I can only suppose they have gone

30  June 2006   Friday evening, at home 2330H Dear God, As soon as Christian told me about Jas's topic about religious, I had, as You knew, started writing things in my head.  As usual I started with an essay, and attempted a story, got so far as thinking of writing about that day when my world, as I knew it, came crashing down.  But all that seemed small and petty, and finally another epistolary.  While they do not believe in You, I do,  and this my letter of Thank You to You. I wish to thank You for all the beautiful things in my life.  Things and Times when I've forgotten to say thank You, not because I didn't appreciate it, but becau

I drive? He drives. They drive? Real driving requires skill and expertise. It is the amalgamation of vision acuity, reflex speed, and decisiveness.  Most people just get the car moving, and getting to their destination through sheer luck or sheer determination. I should know.  I get to places that way.  Through sheer determination, more than luck.  But I do not drive.  I have a license, and own a car, with beat-up exteriors and pristine interiors, and a motor that beats a brand new car.  The exterior is beat up because my cats think that it's a wonderful place to rest, the motor is A-one because I do not like getting stranded midway to anyw

*** at the beach The sun was beautiful, casting diamond lights on the black sands and yet, beating down on two young women, tall for their age and exceeding pleasant to look at. Both were from Catholic schools in the Metropolis, enjoying a week-long visit to a friend's beachfront home. Both had black shiny hair, Marissa's head of hair was cut short, and Genny had long hair, brushed straight pass her shoulder blades. Both were merry, and picking at gewgaws on the beach. "Hey, Mary's waving," yelled Marissa and looking persuasively at Genny, "Let's go to her restaurant and get something to eat! Let's drink at least!" When her companion migh

How would my dark lover come? In silent stealth Creeping into the darkness 'Ere the morning light comes Or would it be In triumphant glory Claiming what is his In brightest day Would it be in wings so swift No one would know That he had come and gone And taken what he hath desired so long Would it be in slow descent Allow sufficient time for mere goodbyes That regrets may not be aborning And thus make my leaving happy? I know not how I know not when I know not where I only know he comes. Sunday 1228. 24 September 2006 And still betwixt the moments between hello and goodbye.

I lay there exhausted. I could only watch, and feel, as they fought for me. My friends fought for me to stay Calling on past times together to strengthen the bonds that held me to this life He fought for me to go So that we could be together at last In unending togetherness I would pass out,  in fatigue at the battle that rage And inside I would feel his smile Each slide into unconsciousness was victory for him And minutes would pass But my friends would not give up Not yet, they ask There is time enough for forever to wait They had only today Can he not wait some more They asked me What did I want But I could not say I wa