It always helps to breathe.

No matter how much my body hurts right now, no matter how many ways my ex-wife tries to make me regret leaving her, no matter how many road blocks and hurdles the bank throws at me before I can officially celebrate buying my dream home.... I will never forget the fact I am happier now than I have ever been.  I celebrate each day with a sense of awe and anticipation that I haven't felt since... ever.

And each day promises to be better than the last.

I remember not too long ago when my blog was the only lifeline with the world outside my head.  It was the only chance I felt free to be me (or at least it was at first).  Now, however, I can't seem to find the time or the urgent need to do this anymore.  My life is not the emotional chaos it used to be.  I am at peace.  With myself, with the world, with God...

But this peace is exhausting.  I'm so tired right now I cannot think.  Maybe I'll wake up after a short coma and discover this has all been a dream, and that my life of miserable futility is still waiting for me....

I dared to forte and crescendo in the swell of some imaginable wave and make my entrance an exit, both.

I dared to wrestle the cat of eighteen claws into a cheesecloth sack, tied with silk, and pronounced myself liberated from the curse of IN (fidelity, somnia, ebriated, corrigible).

So here I sit, clutching you as indemnity against future mythologies, you holding me as a colliery of argots, liens placed on my future yield.

A blog could say so much, but fervor delights in blaze, emperance in water, and beauty in between....