(8/16/11)
"Let the beauty of what you love be what you do." -Rumi
A quote from To Write Love on Her Arms to start my day. It raises very good questions: What do I love? Is what I love beautiful? Is my love beautiful?
Love has been on my mind a lot lately, for various reasons, no one single reason. I have only found one conclusion, love is confusing.
Today I write in black ink. My heart feels black and cold. Black because I know all the people I have hurt, and all the pain I have caused. Cold because I know how much I have been hurt.
A poem is in my head, ever growing, ever expanding. I want to put it on paper, but it just can not make it there.
I am still writing more than I use to, but not what I want to write.
I am sitting in the coffeehouse again, for the first time in forever, I am at a lose for words with my writing though.
I think I need a break from life.
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