[idreaminirish]

[idreaminirish]

The Light

you turned on was just a reading lamp, but it illuminated something in my mind I didn't realize was dark. You meant to share your pretzels. I didn't ask you to. You felt bad anyway. We're just like that, I guess. You shared your heart and that is infinitely better. I shared a poem. Was it a good trade? The pages of your book turn, turn again. The pace suggests that you are enthralled. But I know that it is familiarity. Both? You read me the same way.

[idreaminirish]

“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I -  I took the one less traveled by,  And that has made all the difference.”

~Robert Frost

My road has been long and clear. Waypoint after waypoint, my route has been marked with sign after sign:       "Three Hills - 200 km”             “Paradise - 67 miles”                   “Maximum 110 km/h;”                “Tourist Attractions: Superman Museum - 12 miles;”          “Animo Suavages Zone Élevé D’Accidents Sur 6 Km;”    “Rest Area, Next Right."

Sometimes the road has been wide and straight,       sometimes windy and narrow. Sometimes there is heavy stop-and-go traffic       and I am forced to wait anxiously             for the next chance to crawl ahead just five more feet.       Sometimes I am the only one on the road. Sometimes I drive slow—an easy 45 mph to enjoy the scenery,       sometimes I clock an even 90 mph and it’s still not fast enough. On this journey, I have been beset with rain, shine, fog, and snow; potholes, hills, construction, and detours. Whatever the conditions and whatever I encounter, my way has always been laid out plain before me.

Today, I meet a fork in the road. It was inevitable, I suppose. The road looks difficult ahead, both to the left and to the right. Either way looks rough, but both seem equally good and equally adventurous. There are no signs here to tell me what is ahead, save an ominous yellow diamond labeled, “Bump Ahead.”

Two roads diverge in a wood, and my choice will make all the difference, I know. —but which do I take? the one less traveled by?              How do I know which that is?

[idreaminirish]

Dépaysement & Waldeinsamkeit

I want to run away. The constant rush of cars like a river flowing by my house mocks me. It is an uncomfortable sound, a poor mimic, and an even poorer substitute. It is a hot sound; loud, artificial, and too irregular. Even the roaring rage of a waterfall is a calming whisper which soothes the soul and banishes all cares and anxiety, drowning every thought in the steady, reliable rush of its music—but this!—this is the sound of unrest. It is the sound of busy people hurrying from place to place, with little time to get there and much less time to stop and enjoy the life that rushing by them at 70 miles an hour. What I would not give for a tent and a canoe 100 miles by trail from the nearest freeway, highway, or byway. I would even settle for 10 miles between it and me. I would trade every house for a grove of trees, every automobile for a boulder, every person for a bird or a squirrel or an insect. Not that I particularly desire to be away from people, but the anxious non-stop go-go-go around me weighs heavy on me and wearies me. In fact, I do not want to run away alone. I want the solitude and seclusion of the wilderness, but not solitariness or isolation. I want to share the quiet of the wilderness. I want to be alone...with. There is another place that I go to experience peace and quiet, to quell anxiety and replace it with rest. The arms of the woman I love are a haven; a shelter and a sanctuary. Her smile makes the rushing world around me vanish into stillness, tranquility, and serenity. Run away with me, my Bride.

[idreaminirish]

Remember the great height from which you fell. Remember the great depth from which I lifted you up. Remember the great price I paid for your ransom. Remember the great pain I suffered at your hand. Remember the great death I suffered for your sake. Remember the agony, the guilt, the shame you felt. Remember, but despair no longer, for my love is greater, my power is stronger, my forgiveness is yours.

[idreaminirish]

Fuair mé amach mo chol.

Who could have known that the dove would fall in love with the raven?

[idreaminirish]

Dear Muse, I know I have not been the best of friends to you as of late, but I want to mend our relationship and rectify any wrongs that I have committed against you. I have neglected you and I am sorry. Psyche is right, I need you. She has felt the rift in our relationship more intimately than anyone. Return to me, if only for her sake. She is angry with me for how fat and lazy I've let Imagination get. She says I don't exercise my pet nearly enough. Again, she is right. He is quite sluggish and actually seems happy that way, though we both know he misses his morning walks with you. I miss you, too. Life is indeed boring without you. I know you're jealous of the time I spend with Academia. He is a valuable friend, but he could never really replace you. I promise, that has never been my intent, nor his—even if he does seem needy and demands a lot of my time. I wish you two would get along better. Please try. Please come back to me. Sincerely, DJ

[idreaminirish]

I love you.

I will love you forever. That doesn't mean I will like you forever. Right now, I like you. I like you a lot. Someday, for however brief or long a moment, I might hate you.

Loving you forever means that when that day comes, I will not rest until we have worked through it together and I like you again.

On that day, I will love you so much more after the day is through. I love you. I will love you forever.

[idreaminirish]

I want to do something creative today...

[idreaminirish]

Tú féin agus an ghealach...

I am drawn to you like the moon is drawn to the earth. You hold me in careful balance as I circle, endlessly admiring your beauty from a close distance. Call me a doomsday theorist, but one day we will crash into each other and nobody will be able to sort out the wonderful mess.

[idreaminirish]

Eilís, tá mo chroí leatsa.

Falling in love is a lot like falling asleep. No matter how determined you are to stay awake, it's gonna happen eventually. And then, when you do fall, the world turns to black. Next thing you know, you are in a fantasy world where anything can happen. Even the most absurd is perfectly natural: penguins can fly, unicorns are real, time does not exist, and all that matters is that look in her eye. Then in the last stage, which lasts for a short while, you don't know where you are and you don't care. Then, if you're lucky, it cycles back to black and begins again. But then, eventually, you wake up. Sometimes, when you're in love, you don't wake up.

[idreaminirish]

Ba mhaith liom a grá agat go deo.

Bealtaine mé? 

[idreaminirish]

When it's 11:00

I check my watch every 30 seconds to make sure it's not 11:11 yet. The minute before, I watch every endless second tick slowly by until it is. And then, at exactly 11:11:11, I make my wish.

[idreaminirish]

An Foraoise Ársa

I need the forest. I need it now and I need it badly. I need to be where the trees are old, wise, and enchanted. I long to hear them whisper their long-forgotten tales of glory, of a time when God was King and man was mere myth. I long to rest in quiet solitude beneath their sheltering boughs. I long to hear the birds sing their thanksgiving and adoration to God from the lofty heights of the treetops. I long to see the squirrels dance, careless and carefree. Then, to the deepest, darkest, oldest part of the forest, where all things are ancient and timeless. There, I am the youngest. I am the child. I need, for a moment, to be a child, for only as a child do I have the courage to approach the feet of Jesus.

[idreaminirish]

One day Alice came to a fork in the road and saw a Cheshire cat in a tree. 'Which road do I take?' she asked. 'Where do you want to go?' was his response. 'I don't know,' Alice answered. 'Then,' said the cat, 'it doesn't matter.'

~ Lewis Carroll, Alice's Adventures in Wonderland

[idreaminirish]

Sometimes...

I feel like my life is a joke, I am the punchline, everybody is laughing, and I still don't get it. Do I care? I like to tell myself I don't.

[idreaminirish]

Scáthanna an anam.

I am a stranger to my own psyche. I wander, lost to wanderlust; a wandering of the soul. I throw my life into my pack along with the rags I wear and the scraps that I eat. 21 grams is all it weighs, and yet so heavy upon my shoulders. At half a pound, my heart is heavier still. I reach for my bag, reconsider, and pin it to my sleeve. My mind: three pounds. I lift it up for a closer look, trying to understand. It slips and now I cannot find it… I begin my journey, followed closely by my shadow, as lost as I am.