Droplets in the dunes

You wonder. When something speaks to your heart you really wonder. You heard something that sounds a lot like affirmation. Affirmation of where you're heading with your heart. You heard some more and you're done for...

It was an affirmation!

An overkill... It doesn't say if you have what it takes to go the distance.

A road sign... Not banner over the door.

But droplets in the dunes... Impelling.

A thought on man's original sin

Paralysis is the first disease of the male species.

The will is the wildest thing a man owns. Your will is your own. If God were to be absolutely good and He wanted nothing but for man to come through, then we must believe that Adam had in him what it takes to come through.

The reason why he didn't come through should then be found in Adam's WILLINGNESS to come through - not the lack of strength from God.

He had total freedom to choose whether he would come through or not. His will must have been so wild and free that it was totally independent of his strength. He could have strength in him and yet still fail so long as he had the free will to make failure possible.

Which he did. Since then men don't stand a chance.

Earned or received?

Suddenly it felt good.

Which was bad, because it felt good for the wrong reason.

You were given something you couldn'tve earned by yourself. You were pleasantly surprised. And then it felt good, as if you've earned it.

But you didn't. You received it.

Your Lord is risen

You're at it again.

You've been at it for a while now. All the while.

How long does she have to wait? How much longer has it got to be before you're prepared to fight?

Rise heart;
Thy Lord is risen.

--George Herbert

One of the things to know her by

You see a mother grabs her daughter's arm walking down the street like she would hold a dirty laundry.

You cannot imagine that she loves her daughter the way daughters ought to be loved. You want to think that somehow she loves herself more. Such a mother shouldn't ever become one!

Your mother always held your hand walking down the street. You even held hands when you were still not too embarrassed to share a bed with her.

A mother ought to love her children and never stop loving them. Even when she's stopped loving herself. She ought to put them before herself and be willing to die in their place if she had to.

You knew that day that's the kind of mother she would be if she ever have children. You didn't see it coming. But ever since then you never stopped wishing that she'll one day be your children's mother if you ever have children. You try not to picture her playing with them against a backyard you haven't yet owned. Hell - most of the time you even try not to picture her at all!

That day the picture of your children's mother jumped off the page and scared the living daylights out of you.

Some REM-sleep (Reprise)

Sometimes your dreams are so big they scare you. And you don't dare to think about it so much. Other times you only wish they could really come true, so you could stop thinking about it eventually.

But you're lying.

The only reason the dreams should come true is so that they would stop scaring you.

After all weak people get scared. And weaker people get scared often.

Weak people need dreams, whether or not they believe those dreams would come true. Weaker people need big dreams. That's their only hope of overcoming what scares them ever so often.

There are all sorts of things that scare...

Loneliness...

Mostly loneliness.

Even weakness sometimes. The kind of weakness that keeps you lonely and scared. The kind that can only be defeated by big dreams, which could scare you even more given enough time.

Yet it's a different kind of scare.

The kind that you're scared by because it's too big and you're too weak to have anything to do with it. And once in a while it's the same kind of dreams that makes you brave and for once feel like you're living...

A better kind...

And scarier.

Some REM-sleep

You replay the scenes in your head, trying to recall every single detail like it really happened.

It doesn't matter. You were there. With her. And quite alone you two.

The way you talk to each other and look into the other person's eyes and cling together. All without failing to disregard the presence of a world outside your mutual preoccupation. The feeling of exclusivity only two lovers can know. Even in a bustling crowd.

And that's what matters.

Some might call it pathetic. But you'd rather be pathetic than not knowing at all what it's like.

Now you know.

And it's like nothing else.

Nothing else... even though it's not real.

But the dream is real. It's a real dream. Perching above you on a cloudy Saturday morning. A dream of how it could be like.

Like nothing else.