The Space in Between

Thank you
for being
the space in between
the relentless drive for perfection
and my not caring a damn
for being
that pause in between
the deafening din of dreariness
and the sensual allure of flattery
for being
that long deep breath
that inhales you into me
and feel you as I would my second skin
for being
that fine line between
What it means to live
and what it means to be alive
Thank you
for being

Other thoughts on Love

Some people think that it is enough to be in love with someone and for that someone to love us back. That finding someone to love is the hard part. That once you have achieved that the rest is supposed to take care of itself. That the intensity of love for each other is the most important. That its riding into the sunset from there on. As with all things that are supposed, it is not like that.

A very important component left out of the common idea of love is learning and understanding how to love someone. Each person has a unique way they need to be loved. Some need to be seized by their lover and die in their arms. Some need to be teased playfully. Some need to feel the heat of jealousy. Some need to be in complete agreement. Some find contentment with a peck on the cheek once a day.

Whatever that way be, you must find it. Your love depends on it. Once you have found it, possess it and walk upon it so often until it is only you that travels upon it. On doing this would you would be able to discover, identify and turn out any brigands upon it. If you do not find their way of love, then your love will not be able to reach your lover's heart. Your impoverished lover would be damned to only seeing your love as if through a bulletproofed window, unable to feel its heat, from the outside looking in.

Some thoughts on Love

Love is the emotional sun of a human being. Like plants, we creep, we crawl, we bend, we twist to seek its rays, to feel its warmth. Until we receive enough to radiate our own glow and so be able to see and bask in the glow of others. It is the sun that can make fertile the barest patch of the heart's soil and make the smallest seedling become a tall and mighty oak of trust and love.

Without it, we wither, we wilt. Without it, the soil of our heart slowly becomes acidic. The taste of life's bitterness envelopes our tongue and then consumes the rest of our body. Without it, we turn upon ourselves, inflicting ourselves with loathing, regret and helplessness, scarring our heart so the pain blocks out that taste. Feeling something is better than wanting to give without having anybody to receive. And once we have so completely and thoroughly despised ourselves, our darkness shall escape into the world.

have you kissed your mom today?

Racing barefooted after kicking off her flip-flops, Cyndie pushes her son Derek Madsen, 10, up and down hallways in the UC Davis Medical Center in Sacramento on June 21, 2005, successfully distracting him during the dreaded wait before his bone marrow extraction. Doctors want to determine whether he is eligible for a blood stem cell transplant, his best hope for beating neuroblastoma, a rare childhood cancer, which was diagnosed in November 2004