A soft impulse of love is the sole life of a melting heart.

A tiny hope of love brings the light of dawn through the darkness of a lengthy night, and love, small, even as the twinkling of the faintest star, keeps the light at the altar shining.

And in that faintest light of love, some day, the beloved finds his way and creeps on in silence, in quietness, drawn by that tiny, tiny love, which kept the door open in the hope of fulfillment; in the hope of fulfillment, that some day and some time the darkness of the night would give way to the brightness of the midday sun in a clear sky.

- Maharishi -
Love and God

micro-blogging, via Twitter, has had a serious effect on my macro-blogging, via Blogger and/or any of my other various blogs, be they on LiveJournal, Myspace, Wordpress, etc.

communicating piece by piece, bit by bit, i'm limited to mini-thoughts, and not having any mega-dish sessions of writing about life love feelings goings ons etc.

everything limited to 160 characters or whatever fits in a single sentence ADD burst of not too much information. something chatty and fun.

i did, however, have a 3 and 1/2 hour conversation with a very sad 21 year old girl last night while eating homemade vegan curry. that felt like being of service to humanity.

i am so grateful that i have a boyfriend that i adore who is an amazing cook and has the softest most touchable skin i have ever felt.

when i was breaking up with my ex he put a curse on me... it didn't come true!

blogging, for me, is the place to be embarrassingly un-deep. as if the world wide websurfers were invited to read my high school journal.

i didn't keep a journal in high school... only a highly coded date book/calendar which would, via symbols, remind me on which days i did which drugs and what sex acts and with whom. these were the key facts of my existence that struck me as "worth remembering"

once, in high school, i took (stole) all of the thermometer's from chemistry class, brought them home, broke them open, and made myself a glass full of mercury. i played with it often... spilling it on the rug and picking it up with my bare hands. as far as i know i am fine.

there are so many projects that i have started and haven't finished. i am feeling a call. the call.

a sound/image struck me today:

my relationship with god = a jolly game of marco polo. i say "marco" and wait for the response. a sign comes. "polo". i move one step closer.