Thoughts destined to be washed away by the tides of life. |
I've been studying my cover photo for a while now, and it seems to me that it is more than just a photo of what is there that can be seen, more than just three white rocks stacked on a beach. It contains an important question about the future, about what happens long after the photographer has gone. What will happen to our pile of stones when the tide comes in? Will it topple or has the architect built this structure at a safe distance? I don't know what will happen to these words that I stack here on the sand. They may prove safely distant, or they may be swallowed up by a rush of self-doubt. They may be here for a season. They may lose their balance and be scattered by the shoreline, or be hidden away under shifting sands. Perhaps someday, the tides of life will reclaim them. Or maybe that's just a bunch of poetic, romantic nonsense. After all, this is just a blog. |
#106. In which I say much less than I want to but restrain myself
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#99. In Which I Spout Angrily About Other People's Anger
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#78. Falling for Autumn - Stop being so stuck up
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#52. If the Tooth Fairy collected eye teeth, what would she see?
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#29. I Gotta Feeling I would rather listen to Stardust
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#23. Curly Brackets in Captivity and Other Survival Skills
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#13. What's So Funny About Peace, Love and Understanding?*
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