“Dear spirit, dear soul, what can you do to cure a broken heart? Is it for my heart alone? How do I with no guide, no compass, no family to guide me? Is my solitude a prison of walls of glass, or invisible illusions defined by fear? Dear universe, dear stars, is our light singing for us alone, or for everything that sound touches, invisibly, as it passes through all surfaces, all barriers, in time and in space. Do not let my life be a tragedy, broken in all the places that could so easily have been healed. Guide us through better days, in each step we take, and I will give my all to you, as I have everyday, this imperfect being of perception. I pass this note from body to mind, in the silence of the end of day, as a reminder of all that can be tomorrow, and all tomorrows, one after the other, as steps in the path of wisdom. The world is too important for me to ignore it anymore.” I folded the paper, while our heads were down in class, and passed it to the chair next to me, empty, with absence of body, and it may still remain.
The Reluctant Blogger 