Waiting for Sunset (10, on second thought...)

Now I am about to finish the final draft of a book of poetry.  She said she kept hearing voices. At least physically. Spiritually I am still muddled. Yet I find the strength to cheer away little irritations that come my way. Such irritations come from typically cruel persons. They are on the internet. My tumors are all behaving themselves too.

We have an unusual relationship. We do not argue about money or relations. Like the ringing in my ears. Our 'disputes' are often such things as: Isn't a belief in rationality completely irrational? What's the difference between a mandala and a Celtic knot? What is ambiguity? Is it desirable to develop a general theory of problem solving?

These are why I am exhausted. I often appeared to be very strong. He said it was difficult for a sensitive butterfly to meet a raging bull. If the butterfly sits on the horns of the bull then she gets a free ride and makes the bull look pretty. If she is always complaining about the bull messing up the grass then she is likely to get trampled on. Maybe the bull was once a butterfly who got trampled on because he loved the grass so much. My husband is the dragon.








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(These are prose composed from recent journal entries. I mix the sentences in various ways. A certain atmosphere is created as a result. It is somehow a way of consolidating my thoughts and feelings over time. To see what's buried or where things could go. Thanks to John Feddeler for comments leading to these thoughts.)