Scratching the surface

Published on 07/30/07 at 12:17:03 pm using 818 words.

Physical beauty doesn’t amount to much. The more striking it is to you, the more effectively it fools you into believing it is the be-all-and-end-all of treasures… But if you manage to build up a partial immunity to the spell it casts (a partial immunity being as much as we can hope for) it really gets relegated to not much at all.

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The O Blog

Published by Iris in Inspired by, Movies, Bubbledom ~, People,
Published on 07/27/07 at 10:33:00 pm using 784 words.

Where do hugs come from? Picture a child’s curiosity behind that question. Sparkling eyes looking up at the prospect of an unveiling - yet another little piece of the world revealed.

That’s sort of the way I’ve always looked at movies…

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Happy Endings

Published on 07/26/07 at 05:26:00 pm using 251 words.

There are no happy endings.

Everything is a door opening to a space you don’t yet know will lead to another door opening to a space you don’t yet know will lead to another door opening to a space you don’t yet know will lead to another door opening to a space you don’t yet know will lead to another door opening…

Feeling dizzy yet?
That’s probably why that particular piece of information is kept from us - over and over and over again.
That’s probably why things don’t happen in a flash - so that we have time to look around and get our bearings, so that we don’t lose our balance…

Any space we occupy at any given moment, we occupy for a purpose we’re not privy to.
Everything and everyone leads us somewhere that in turn leads us somewhere that in turn leads us somewhere that in turn leads us somewhere, that in turn…

Life is a succession of false beginnings and ends.

There are no happy endings because even happy endings lead somewhere.

In time, every sad ending will become happy. The sad ending is only because the author stops telling the story. It still goes on. It’s just untold.
(Twin Falls Idaho)

One of God’s greatest mercies is that he keeps us perpetually occluded.

Currently shattering window panes with a rendition of…
Damien Rice - Sleep don’t weep/9

Among other things

Published on 07/24/07 at 05:45:00 pm using 266 words.

A heart is a scary muscle - the way it’s able to withstand beatings and heal faster than we ever would’ve guessed. But as with everything, there are long term effects. It hardens, the little muscle that could. It tricks you into closing doors and opening windows, thus limiting your options as to where to move next and at the same time giving you an ampler view to behold. The wider the view, of course, the more details you have on hand to nitpick. The more tempted you are to find fault. The more you understand, too. Let’s bear in mind that finding fault is not necessarily a bad thing. If the faults are there, why shouldn’t they be found? Everything is what it is… among other things. Everything bad is connected to something good, however distantly and vice-versa.
Shame is, among other things, evidence of a conscience.
Love is, among other things, a blindfold.
The flu is, among other things, a reason to rest when you wouldn’t otherwise.
A movie is, among other things, something that fastens you to a seat and keeps you from your life.
A hardened heart is, among other things, something that will eventually melt. And how good it is to melt…

There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.


Everything seems so close together. All the good and bad things in the world. Everything. I feel it in myself, even. And in us.

(Grand Canyon)


Published by Iris in Memory Lane, People, Cathartic Writing,
Published on 07/24/07 at 04:02:00 pm using 616 words.

It takes time. It may take one step at a time, several trips down and up the stairs of a state of loss. It may take five months. Eventually it happens. I take comfort in the fact that it might’ve taken longer. However long it takes it’s always worth it… finally getting to that deceptively shallow pond in the middle of the ocean where nothing is barred. Your oasis of sorts - where the water is warmer, the 360º view is overwhelming, as uneven as the rolling of the sea makes it, but still you feel safe and at peace. That oasis is our only possible destination no matter what other exciting places may take priority on our individual lists – our personal lists made in ignorance. That oasis is the sanctuary we’re so often blind to. Close your eyes and everything stays just as it is. Close your eyes and nothing disappears.

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The Evil Nature of Virtual Love

Published by Iris in Memory Lane, People, Rant, Cathartic Writing,
Published on 07/24/07 at 02:54:00 pm using 605 words.

Losing someone you love is one thing. It hurts but since you know the person, since you’ve gotten to know the good as well as the bad, it is a real person you’re getting over, some of whom will be missed, some of whom you’ll be ecstatic not to have to deal with ever again. That’s the evil of virtual love. You “meet” someone who goes from being a stranger to being a loved one, who showers you with the most beautiful words, envelops you in poetry, makes you feel loved beyond anything you’ve ever known, is there for you day in and day out, someone whose voice you come to hear and love more than your favorite songs. And things change overnight (or over the weekend.) And where are the flaws that tell you there’s a good side to this… break-up? Can it even be called a break-up? What was it? How to define it?

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A C-inspired Blog

Published on 07/24/07 at 02:17:00 pm using 346 words.

Some distances are bridgeable, other gaps are simply impossible to overcome.

Distance seems to establish itself between people, right at that one second your attention is elsewhere. So you’ll never be able to identify exactly who or what flipped the switch to crack the earth open dead between you. Once the distance is established, that’s the view you have. Period. A vague miniature outline in the far off distance - a sketch of someone who may have once been larger than life.

But every once in a while you do get a glimpse. An imaginary bridge comes to life before you for a brief second and at that, time stops and you’re able to connect the dots. To see a montage of what was and what is. That aberration of a moment that refuses to fit into a natural timeline allows for time defying confrontations between the former you and the current “whoever they may be” as well as the former “whoever they may be” and the current you. It’s like swimming effortlessly against the current to find a little pool of standing water where everything, past and present can float freely, safely and co-exist under the sun.

It’s a watery oasis, that little pool in the middle of the ocean. It’s the only place in all that vastness where swimming lessons are not required, because everything merges, nothing sinks and everything is seen in its totality, its completeness, its full splendor of uncensored good and bad.

We’ve all been children.

We’ve all known fear.

We’ve all felt distant.

We’ve all been partially blinded by that distance.

I wish you all that oasis of a pool, that imaginary bridge, that moment of rescue and redemption. I wish you all the discernment that they bestow.

C, may you always be as inspired as you are inspiring! XO

(Inspired by C’s poem Swimming Lessons)

Currently shattering window panes with a rendition of…
Counting Crows - A Long December/Recovering the Satellites

Life as a Tunnel

Published by Iris in Random Thoughts,
Published on 07/24/07 at 12:57:00 pm using 307 words.

Every new day is a tunnel. But not just any tunnel. A tunnel you’ve never been through before, so it’s highly unlikely you’ll know where it leads until it gets you there. You may even have an inkling of recognition, a dejavu-ish impression… but it is an impression nonetheless. It has to do with the fact that they all look the same. The same basic structure, the same darkness, the same light at the end of them which starts off as a white dot and grows by leaps and bounds until it’s big enough to be your way out.

There are as many tunnels as there are days in a life.

The darkness of a tunnel can have a host of surprises in store. Two people can drive into the same tunnel in separate cars and come out the other side, as if by sheer magic, in the same vehicle, hands clasped (an unknown magic trick at the helm, just as the dark is unknown.)

The darkness of a tunnel can also work against unity; it can drive a wedge between people. And you never know which tunnel will do what. Much of life is learning how to live with the darkness of a tunnel, of learning to play the trust game in the dark, stretching out your arms and letting yourself fall back onto whatever may or may not be there to catch you; of learning how to do most things in the dark, learning to live blindly, instead of squinting to no avail, out of an instinctive need to try, driven by the illusion of control promised by sight and foresight.

Currently shattering window panes with a rendition of…
Radiohead - There There/Hail to the Thief