Full Up

But they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint." Isaiah 40:31

"An idea for a short story about, um, people in Manhattan who are constantly creating these real, unnecessary, neurotic problems for themselves cos it keeps them from dealing with more unsolvable, terrifying problems about... the universe." Woody Allen

And it goes a little something like this...

An overdue visit with a long time acquaintance put words to my emotions."You have a lot more freedom when people don't read your words."

Ah yes... expression versus censorship and i question why my joy has drained from my blog.

Can't liberation come with being heard?

I never have been skilled in restraint.

I'm tired. Yes I know you are too. But anyone who wants to discuss the true definition of exhaustion has to have spent a summer in New York. Its near enough to breathe in the idling cab fumes, the black bus exhaust, the steam seeping from the subway grates, or the radiating denseness coming from the concrete, but to rub up next to the sticky sweaty grub whose positive, negative, indifferent, and dead wrong ideas get sucked into your nostrils while you're holding your breath and drops of sweat drip between your breasts as you wipe your furling brow and anticipate the end of your 12 hour day so you can sleep the sound somber of the dead for four entire hours cause the buck don't stop till late and the drive don't cease at all.

That is to truly experience the painstaking energy released in the 3 months leading to Fall...when the streets of New york embody a brand new sense of urgency and we all hit the ground running...in long pants.

Eh, you want real problems? 

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