a perfect saturday morning: poached egg on toast with butter and spike, a big mug of green tea, and a book.

i'm not sure how i felt about this one. i know that parts of it spoke to me, but i don't know how i took the book as a whole, i don't know that it really fit together the way i wanted it to. it jumped a bit too much and the string connecting each part was a little too loose from time to time. none the less, i discover myself in literature in the same manner as music. i suppose you can always find what you're looking for if you really go looking for it, the whole hermneutical circle thing... so some things popped out at me from the pages so i'm going to type them, and maybe share some thoughts, who knows... i really need to join a reading group... i think i miss that most from ac, reading as part of the community... ok, back on task...

Loving you is like lifting a heavy stone. It would be easier not to do it and I'm not quite sure why I'm doing it. It takes all my strength and all my determination, and I said I wouldn't love someone again like this. Is there any sense in loving someone you can only wake up to by chance?

effort. strength. determination. following your heart or following your head? walking into the flames once again even though you've already experienced the pain of being burned. love.

'What is it you want?' she said.

I want to be able to call you. I want to be able to knock on your door. I want to be able to keep your key and to give you mine. I want to be seen with you in public. I want there to be no gossip. I want to make supper with you. I want to go shopping with you. I want to know that nothing can come between us except each other.

me too.

You had once asked me if I was afraid of death.
I said I was afraid of not living.
I don't want to eke out my life like a resource in short supply.
The only selfish life is a timid one. To hold back, to withdraw, to keep the best in reserve, both overvalues the self, and undervalues what the self is.
Here's my life- I have to mine it, farm it, trade it, tenant it, and when the lease is up it cannot be renewed.
This is my chance. Take it.

this is why we walk through flames. Why are so many people afriad of death? We know absolutely nothing about it. I think it is the cessation of life and thinking you haven't really lived that is the true fear in fear of death. she's right. when i go to bed each night and ponder what's happened during the day, i wonder if i've sucked all the marrow, if i've run wildly into living, or if i've retreated, if i've hidden out, if i've stayed in shallow water for fear of drowning when i could have soared.

I can't do it. I've been here before and it's not a room with a view. The only power I have is the negative power of withdrawl. If I don't withdraw I have no power at all. A relationship where one person has no power or negative power, isn't a relationship, it's the bond between master and slave.

'For God's sake give me a break!'
'I'd have to break myself.'

And then I'm thinking, why am I like this? Why?

When i read this this morning I just kind of paused, stop breathing, felt myself sucking in the air... most of my real (non surface level) discussions the past few days have involved the topic of power in relationships. how I am a strong woman, sturdy and well rooted in who I am, standing firm in my principles, straightforward, clear on who it is that I want to be. Despite this, for some reason, in intimate relationships I have a tendency to relinquish my power, I allow the other person's actions and words to completely alter my state of being, why do I do this? I actually had a moment in conversation with a friend where I realized how little I allow myself to be when trying to be intimately involved with an other. me: "I give up my control. I hand over all the power of the relationship to them. I make up excuses for their actions. These are the things people in abusive relationships do. What am I doing?" I don't think I do this in my friendships, but I do with those people i've fallen for, and maybe perhaps with my some of family. I'd never thought about any of this until three days ago. I feel like i'm reading my journal when I open up certain passages of this book.

'If you'll give up your past, I'll give up mine,' I said.
(She looked at her suitcase.)
'I'll bring clothes, books and the cat. That's all.'
(Her suitcase was getting bigger.)
'We can start again with furniture. We can make new friends.'
(The suitcase was filling up the coffee house.)
'We'll rent an apartment overlooking the river.'
(The suitcase was pressing against the walls.)
'With a bed and a chair and the morning sun.'
(The suitcase was pressing against my chest.)
'When we open the windows, we'll be like birds.'
(The suitcase was in my ribcage.)
'Our happiness will be like the flight of birds.'

baggage. oh massive, overflowing, suffocating baggage.

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so, i'm not sure if anyone actually reads this or not, but my bookshelf is running out of books, I need more to read, I'm going at about a book every two days or so, if you are reading this any suggestions for new reads of any kind would be greatly appreciated.