The black hart, of which is not always so easy for me to understand especially when it involves words. Challenged to I speak or write from the hart, in retrospect of all it usually comes out kind of crappy and inappropriate. Words all sound so much better inside where it’s warm and all knowing. Every one of these words and pictures in my head are not real, but lost in my soul. I would just assume not be a destructive force upon the world around me, but I feel as though no matter what my words have already betrayed me. I just cannot give you the truth with words that fail in interpretation. It is said that secrecy is the beginning of tyranny, and so I live with my tyrannical self in secrecy not out of necessity or desire but pure ineptitude. There is irony in the lack of design relating to all of this, but I guess it is just that I am just having a bad day.
The Talking Leaves, Johnny Cash
2 comments:
So, are you trying to say you hide things? Regardless, this was deep and I enjoyed reading every word of it.
radio in background.
Scott, go for a bike ride, the exercise can only help your outlook.
Works for me.
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