Ars Poetica

Tonight was a good night. Sushi in the city is a prime idea for a Saturday night. I got a visit from a close friend. As Edward Sharpe says, "Home is wherever I'm with you." Tonight I went home.

I write
Not to say what
I'm thinking, but to calm
My soul. It is the comfort in
Thinking that someone else
Reads what I think
I know.

(Paradox) in Parenses

Another day in this crazy life we live. Recently, I have been writing just to get in the habit, and have not put out much of any quality. Hence this is a freeform sonnet about the paradox of living:

What happened to life?
Was it torn away? Or,
More tragic,
Wasted unknowingly to ruin?

The answer never known,
Until it is first lived.
More tragic,
Is having no answer to live.

The life not lived,
Until it is first answered.
More tragic,
Is living no life to answer.

The most tragic of all,
Forgetting the paradox we know as truth.

It's Not Where You Are; It's Who You're With

This is sick...simply disgusting. I have left my poor little blog to fend for itself for 3 AND A HALF MONTHS. And even after such a long hiatus, I feel as though I can write nothing. I've been getting more into music and having friends over the summer...if there's an excuse in this post, I guess that's it.

It's been a busy summer. I worked all alot, and hung out with friends when I wasn't. I went back and forth between loving and hating the idea of moving to SPU. It's too late now. I'm all in. If there's ever a time when my life is resting on faith it's now. For many reasons.

This will be my first post from Queen Anne in Seattle.

I miss my friends. Nothing against the people here, they are kind and interesting and cool. A lyric from a song called "St. Joseph's" by The Avett Brothers has a line that goes, "It's not where you are, it's who you're with". So as nice as my new friends are, they aren't home. Because to me, home is not in a building, but in people. If you've ever felt this, you know what I mean. If not, I pray you do.

It seems I've left my heart at my home.

Home is where the heart is,
And not in a house.
Right now I lack the both.

The worst feeling sometimes,
Is when you just want
To go home but can't and won't.

There's no comfort in people
Or places or things
If you find no home in them.

I love where I am,
But I'm missing my home,
And I just want to be there.

Home is where the heart is,
And not in a house.
Right now I lack the both.

It would seem I've left my heart at my home.