I honestly feel like I am letting a lot of people down, and that I'm living somewhat selfishly at the moment.
And it makes me second-guess myself and what I'm doing. But I can't do that too often, or I won't succeed in any endeavor my heart may lead me on.
See, I'm developing a tendancy to jump at the fleeting, shiny things that life drops in my path--if only to marvel at and enjoy them for a short while. And often times I am left in a strange place when that transient twinkling has passed.
That is where I sit now. And I know I must find my way back on the path that I've strayed from, but I dare not doubt myself and my heart. If I did, I would never see these stars, and my journey wouldnt be so rich in beauty.
I will not regret, and I will not lose my optimism.
I will accept any advice my loved ones offer with full consideration, though I cannot promise any adherance.
Oh. Right.
I'm jobless and homless now. But I still feel at home here.
Pet, Waen, and my new Thai friends are taking good care of me. And I am so glad I've become part of their little group.
I hiked to the top of upper Yosemite falls with Pet yesterday, and it was incredible.
We hardly spoke the whole time.
We didn't have to.
We could both hear and see the power and the beauty surrounding us. No words are required to share such an experience.
I realized a lot last night... and it was good for me.
Megan: I listened to them: they are SWEET.
<3
About Me
- Kyle
- There are poets and thinkers and dreamers. They are everywhere. Distributed like heavenly sprinkles, they cling to the places where the frosting hasn't hardened from age and exposure. But some sprinkles get trapped in the crevices created by the knife or the spatula or the pre-pubescent finger that has so adorned the earth with this miracle frosting. Those sprinkles tend to fall off. When you tip the cupcake to your lips, before you can even taste them--before their potential can be realized at all--they are cast to the floor of the bakery. The classroom. The kitchen. The mini-mart… These are the sprinkles that get swept away and vacuumed up and sent someplace else. The journey ahead of them is long and arduous, but they must find their way back to the surface of things. Back to the sticky-sweetness of reality--the substance of waking life…. I am such a sprinkle. And I’ve accepted that.