The Flight of the Rocketman

And in her struggle to be free
In the false trails of the resurrection
The horse of the half moon dies
Trying to find you
For she cannot love anymore
-- Strength from "The Prayer Cycles" by Jonathan Elias

Maybe it is better for me to live without love and just go on. Despite the pressure of loneliness and the deep need to connect with only one person constantly; maybe I should just be some "lone wolf" or worse "child of the world." Maybe to love is only to allow hurt. Maybe this is not for me. Maybe my strengths has always been in working. Maybe I'm only allowed friendship.

Uh-oh! Wanggo is talking about love again...

And I would've been depressed if not for certain little things coming my way. Thank God for patience and perservearance (God knows if I spelled it correctly, too tired to check it out). Spending my free hours in the gym, since I haven't begun on "Diagnosis" yet. While I'm in-between books, we pump the muscles in our body rather than the brain. Right now, my body has become an instrument, part of my work. Got a work on it and make it work for me as well.

The rest of my time has been spent looking at what I'll need for my new place. The downpayment has been paid, the place is cleaned. I just have to move now. It's a lot harder than I first thought...

My soul will surrender
And give in to grace
-- Hope from "The Prayer Cycles" by Jonathan Elias

I'v reached a certain point of numbness... I am a straight line. No fluttering about. I'm incapable of grand emotion except depression and I refuse to go there. It's harder nowadays to be with people. I can only talk about my anger and my pain. And I don't want to be like that. I'm becoming a recluse. Closing in, becoming very picky with who I want to talk to.

Is this the point of honesty? Where nothing comes in except that which we really want? Everything else that is unnecessary is not sought out? Is this what they mean when we find ourselves in a state of grace? No longing, no rushed motion, no frills. Just fluidity...

How strange to find myself here. There is a listlessness in me. I'm not growing weaker, only my desire. My passion still flames but I would prefer to keep it inside. No need to burn others... I've discovered that they don't want to get burned by me. So there's no need to spread the flame.

With some Heaven
Between God and prayer
I watch
For here the light
No longer follows
-- Benediction from "The Prayer Cycles" by Jonathan Elias

I am all sentiment. There is no glory in sentiment. Glory only follows after action and passion. I've been changed. I've been struck dumb in the physicality but here, in the cerebral realm where thoughts and intentions matter; I am noisy, I am sound, I refuse to stop the vibrations... Feel the pulse of everything that was shattered, everthing that once was.

I am swimming in this. I cannot drown. I can breathe in water. I can breathe in light. There is no more love here until someone dares to stoke the fire. But until then, I swim alone, in the dark, cold waters of this thing that is not grace and it is not peace...