Toads (Amongst Other Things)

I am in a strange little orbit today.

Oddly washed over by a sense of tranquility (which is altogether unbecoming, considering that I have a contract exam tomorrow) that I haven't felt in quite a while.

Maybe it's the jazz music. And the breeze and the trees.

Or maybe it's because when I can look back on what has passed with an element of wry amusement (amongst other various emotions, of course), I know it's going to be okay.

We'll all get there someday

A Little Bit; Of Your Heart and Mine

Loss is explosive.

At that particular instant, your emotions scurry like pathetic mice in frantic disarray.

Fast, faster, fastest.

Until something deep within the recesses of your heart explodes; a quiet sort of violence; an irrevocable sort of violence. With a tremble, and then, a sigh.

Sometimes, loss is customary and so nothing changes. Only the ceasing of a heartbeat that was so quiet, you forgot it was ever there in the first place.

For-get-table. Forgettable.

Loss makes the Heart infinitely larger and yet, indescribably smaller, all at the same time.

Engorged with grief, the irony is that it is only in our loss that our capacity for pain increases. Yet loss incessantly gnaws away (the result of which is a Dull Ache) and a small hole appears. Sometimes the hole is merely enlarged.

We’ve all been told that we have an infinite propensity to heal. And we are fundamentally forgetful; our muddled conscious can only sustain but so much. But the hole, the gaping hole. Does it ever actually close up? Or does it merely cease to bleed?











I don’t know.