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Like everything, a journal is the reflection of a journey and its form morphs with time. This archive covers my blogging from 1999-2002.


The Blogger years. It started as I began travelling and wanted a more daily journal of my life to share with my friends.
oct sept aug july
june may april march
feb jan    
dec nov oct sept
aug july june may
april      

The leap from milky white pages to glowing white screen...the start of virtual exhibitionism.
apr.17: irate
apr.08: expired
apr.07: home
apr.06: free
mar.26: bound
feb.18: inked
jan.02: lost
jan.02: dream
sep.13: high
sep.02: wander
aug.30: touched
jul.24: glow
may.11: snap
feb.29: sex
jan.11: why
jan.01: the apocolypse
dec.06: mourning
nov.01: insanity
oct.13: caged
oct.13: surrender

baring a soul : september 2000

high: 09.13.00
"on high...i feel like i'm alive for the very first time..."

i awoke suddenly from the denseness of sleep into the muted stillness of the glass room. my blurry vision crept up the wall of windows next to me as i wondered why i had been jolted out of my vivid dreams.

bathroom.

i groaned and snuggled farther down into the feather comforter. this place would be a lot more perfect if the bathroom were accessable through the house, rather than up the stairs of the porch above.

do i *really* have to go? it was the question i had come to ask every morning at 6 or 7, when my body requested relief. usually i could convince myself that the answer was no.

unfortunately this was not one of those times.

i pondered making the venture upstairs with my natural vision and decided that that could only lead to disaster. so i put in my right contact (its not like i need *both* eyes, i reasoned), pulled on a dress (knowing full well i'd be cold but too tired to care), and i crept quietly out of the room.

as my bare feet padded out onto the wooden decking, my breath caught in my throat. the deck, the fields, the forest, the whole world was bathed in a silver brilliance more illuminating than any sunlight i had ever seen.

even with only one contact in, i felt like i could see every tiny detail of the full moon carresssing the surrounding landscape.

i stood mesmerized, only vaguely aware of the cold air, the gentle breeze. the moon looked as though she would burst at any moment, drowning us in silvery-glowing ecstacy. the vibration of the air - the energy exchanging between the moon and the earth - was *everywhere*...i could feel it...i could *hear* it...i could even smell it, taste it.

never before had i understood why people had, and still did, worship the moon as a goddess, as something alive with soul and energy - something reverent.

but *this*, this must have been what they felt. i closed my eyes and breathed in the life. i could hear the distant gurgling of the stream, feel the slight sway of the trees all around.

this peace was nothing i had ever felt before.