Thoughts of a Wonderluster

Born into a world where love conquers, we aspire to be the object of another’s affection - a bastion of hope and solace in someone else’s dreams.  When the stress of life has worn me thin and I close my eyes at night to rest, I picture myself staring into your eyes where, in that moment, I become lost in your beauty and the complexity of a soul that speaks to my quest for love everlasting. While mental pictures painted of you while I’m without sight are calming, the truth is I’m kept awake with a burdened conscience because I can't control fate. We build these pictures in our minds in hopes of bliss, but sometimes dreams are just meant to be dreams unrequited and not the realities we seek. So here I lay, eyes closed and thinking about you, still. “I don’t know what to do,” is what I tell myself as I wrestle over thoughts and ideas I will probably talk myself out of soon. I don’t know if I’m good enough for you. I don’t know if you feel the same about me. I don't know ...

Alone he walks down sandy shores as dusk arrives and silences day. With no one in sight nor a cloud in the sky the beach is his escape - from life, from love, from the thoughts that anguish his mind. Silence is comfort. Silence is freedom. Silence is hearing the words and thoughts from within. Yet on this night he cannot think of anything other than a girl. To the beach he came to write his thoughts on paper to tell her how he feels with help from liquor he hopes is an elixir to find the words to say. He stares longingly at every wave crashing as if each were a phrase, a thought, a question. One by one waves perish; he's left with a blank page. After hours of thought he finds the strength to write three words on paper. Three words that mean the world but only when echoed; here there's only silence. He puts the message in the empty liquor bottle; never to be seen again Alone he walks down sandy shores as dawn gives birth to the l...

My head and my heart have been married since birth,  but like a disagreeable couple they fight a lot. My heart is emotional and straightforward ,  but my head -  my head is indecisive. Sometimes I wish my heart had a voice which my head couldn't filter so I could describe in tongue so fanciful the emotions I feel. Truth and affection disseminate from my heart,  but are held captive by the schadenfreude of my head. My heart wants what my heart wants, but my head revels in a torturous game of logical chess. If I am to believe I should speak my mind,  somewhere between my heart and my head  the message I carry  gets caught in my throat . Maybe my head is jealous of my heart  because my heart acts simply on feeling;  on the volition of love and emotion -  never a player in the mind's games. Maybe my head is afraid of my heart's desires because my head doesn't want to get hurt. Where as the heart can move...

Indiscriminately strewn  stars  dance across a cavernous  backdrop as we glimpse into a  past  in which our  fibers  were  dust. We gaze upon a  canvas  unchanged from the  lives  of those before us  and  ~wonder~ clandestine  thoughts as we internalize how  s m a l l  we really are. The sequence of  events across billions of  years that led to this  moment  and every  moment  from now until eternity's  end  are an interstellar  roadmap that intersected  me     with          you. Shooting  stars  race across the  sky and create a momentary  Pollock as we look up from this  hammock  for  two. I turn to  you  and see the  night  sky  in your  eyes  and ~wonder~  to myself how  ...