It may be a parting of the Red Sea quality miracle when two adults allow themselves to become enamored. When we're young we give our hearts freely. Falling in love makes us dizzy with glorious anticipation coupled with zero expectation. We lap up every moment of loves bliss with absolute devotion and adventurous abandon. We steep in the hot flash of nervous tension and erotic newness as we brush against each other for the first time. We bathe in overwhelming cuddles, kisses and couple knots while weaving dreams with arms outstretched to all life has to offer. He doesn't know if he'll ever get to take her to bed and she has yet to learn about the quaking magic of physical union. Everything is brand new. Anything is possible. Some may consider young love to be unwise, but it's divine gifts are our keys to the stuff of life............ authenticity and fearlessness. When we are young we don't yet have a thousand past loves and gaping wounds categorized to make our weighty assumptions and judgements. We are naturals at loving. We make mistakes and forgive or move on, but we keep believing in love.
As adults we try to shape, mold or package our love to fit tidily into our busy self-important lives. We even have websites to go shopping from home for our "perfect" mate so we can skip all the hassles of reliving past mistakes. We're all grown up. We know what we want, what we'll put up with and what simply won't do. We toss each other aside with righteous recklessness, as if to say that no form of love has value unless it meets our outlandish standards. We're cheating ourselves right out of romance with every dryly cautious step and inauthentic game. We need a cross country movement of courageous lovers with hearts in our hands, souls reaching and futures on ice. It 'ain't' just organic apples that keeps the doctor away! We need to agree to let our thousand new ways of loving and possible commitments grow organically. We need to let go of control and trust ourselves and each other again. Gals, this means you need to promise yourselves you won't name your future child with a man on your second date. No more manipulating their lives, freedom and choices. They are so worn out from that. Guys, you no longer get to rape and pillage her soul with lip service and disappearing acts while focused only on getting your physical needs met. We are so worn out from that. We all have to be stronger, more vulnerable and heroically honest every step of the way.
Bravely whisper to each others souls. There are a thousand little loves waiting to stir us. We can plan our day but not our loves. All we can do is feel it, breathe it, radiate it everywhere and in every way, with anyone we are lucky enough to stumble upon a great connection with.
Feel the magic.....
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Rock Talk
This simple moment began with deep thankfulness as I stood alone on one of the worlds favorite beaches. A beach I could walk to from home, that was gifting me with absolute solitude to dance in my own inner reverie. The ocean lapped her good morning into my heart and Gaia's pebbles massaged my gently exploring feet. Feet that were planted in intention while my arms were stretching heavenward to breathe the energy for the day up into my body and down into my soul.
A spiritual practice I enjoyed often as a young woman in Hawaii was stacking rocks to gain wisdom about myself or something specific to my journey. Mulling over all the insight that used to happen around this rock play I began collecting pebbles with the intention that they would represent my chakras right now. The 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th and crown were quick to join the little stone replica of my energy system. Satisfied with my musings I wondered off with the vague intention of my 5th and 6th chakras popping into view. I had little hope and zero attachment that they could be profound considering the blue and violet colors they hold in their healthy state not really being readily available in the PNW sands. With linear time tugging at my skirt like an anxious child I turned for one last goodbye stretch.... stretching up and overcome with a blissful gratitude I reach down to place my palms lovingly on the surface of the beach. There it was, the symbol for my throat, perfectly blue beach glass sculpted into a tiny heart by the wisdom of the sea. Of course! I had forgotten about beach glass. Silly me. Anything is possible and there I was trying to limit myself again.
Feel the magic...
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Goodbye Circus
The knock at the door created a thud which jarred my every cell together to awaken to the reality of this moment. I'm not quite ready to let go of my sweetest feline friend but her frail, failing body is no longer a fitting place for her tenderhearted and inquisitive soul. She finally let me know she was ready to go, so I need to be ready now, for her.
After a quick assessment of my home I greet the vet at the door, with a "Welcome to my circus" look. This small framed woman with her bags of mercy at her side, enters softly, as if her personal grace will ease my experience. I'm pretty sure it will. She first notices the red eyed Towhee calmly resting in my right palm. "It was a parting gift from Itsy Bitsy," I explain. "She is a stray cat my daughter Eden befriended after noticing our cranky old Satchy cat wandering the property with her for a couple of weeks. "Digs are good here" He must have said. So she stayed. "Itsy- bitsy has brought our two elderly cats (and us of course) gifts of mice, birds, and snakes periodically for the last three years. Although, they are usually dead."
The vet had never heard of such a thing.
This bird was left, unscathed, in the hallway next to Yangette. When Yangette was finished sniffing the cowering Towhee I scooped it up into my hand and carried it back to freedom. I sat it on the edge of a hanging basket where it seemed to shake off the truth of nearly being a sacrificial last rite and flew back into life.
Back in the house, I gathered a blanket around my faithful nineteen year old cat, bringing her up into my arms for one last cuddle. I sang her silly song and mourned the loss of her ready purr and encouraging meows. Her continence showcased the epitome of a positive attitude and always seemed to answer my questions with a yes. "Yes, I like that skirt. Yes, you should write that poem. Yes, I love you too. Yes, my brother must have been dropped on his head as a kitten. Yes. Yes. yes." Then the bunny hopped madly by and startled the patient vet. "That is Sugar Belle Dehlila Light. She is unbelievably strong willed, incredibly Wiley and intelligent. She only interacts with people on her own terms and is 100% potty trained." I forgot to mention She growls and my girls nick named her Bunacula because she is...... um...... fantastic at holding to her boundary's and my girls were a wee bit slow to learn them.
The vet brings us back to our goodbye by preparing the syringes and needles while explaining the procedure. She asks me how long I have had my dear "Temple" cat. "She was born in my first school bus home 20 years ago tomorrow," I choke out. Her mother went into labor at my feet under the covers in my bed. Her water breaking woke me up. The mother was lost while still nursing so I bottle fed her babies for a few days until they learned to eat." This sincere woman with a caring presence gave my first "baby" her shot while holding perfect space for me to allow my eyes to fill and drop... fill and drop. Yangette drifted off to sleep in my warm embracing lap. On her last great exhale I felt a part of her bubble up, out and into my heart. Literally. "So that is why we say someone will always be in our hearts" I thought. Energy is fascinating.
Yangette
You were born at my feet
Died in my lap
Entered my heart
And will leave through my crown
You are love incarnate
A sacred day
Is everyday
Until we meet again
Blessed be
"Mom"
Yangettes little body twitched and even breathed for nearly an hour after she had been pronounced dead. The vet checked her heart beat 3 extra times in disbelief.
She had never seen that before.
After volunteering a compassionate hug I swear the vet left with a look on her face that spoke of an encounter with the Twilight zone. But, maybe I'm projecting. Just think how the morning would have gone if my resident elder had been awake or my children had been home.
A few more tearful goodbyes.
A little womb dug in momma earth.
And it is back into the day.
Feel the magic.....
After a quick assessment of my home I greet the vet at the door, with a "Welcome to my circus" look. This small framed woman with her bags of mercy at her side, enters softly, as if her personal grace will ease my experience. I'm pretty sure it will. She first notices the red eyed Towhee calmly resting in my right palm. "It was a parting gift from Itsy Bitsy," I explain. "She is a stray cat my daughter Eden befriended after noticing our cranky old Satchy cat wandering the property with her for a couple of weeks. "Digs are good here" He must have said. So she stayed. "Itsy- bitsy has brought our two elderly cats (and us of course) gifts of mice, birds, and snakes periodically for the last three years. Although, they are usually dead."
The vet had never heard of such a thing.
This bird was left, unscathed, in the hallway next to Yangette. When Yangette was finished sniffing the cowering Towhee I scooped it up into my hand and carried it back to freedom. I sat it on the edge of a hanging basket where it seemed to shake off the truth of nearly being a sacrificial last rite and flew back into life.
Back in the house, I gathered a blanket around my faithful nineteen year old cat, bringing her up into my arms for one last cuddle. I sang her silly song and mourned the loss of her ready purr and encouraging meows. Her continence showcased the epitome of a positive attitude and always seemed to answer my questions with a yes. "Yes, I like that skirt. Yes, you should write that poem. Yes, I love you too. Yes, my brother must have been dropped on his head as a kitten. Yes. Yes. yes." Then the bunny hopped madly by and startled the patient vet. "That is Sugar Belle Dehlila Light. She is unbelievably strong willed, incredibly Wiley and intelligent. She only interacts with people on her own terms and is 100% potty trained." I forgot to mention She growls and my girls nick named her Bunacula because she is...... um...... fantastic at holding to her boundary's and my girls were a wee bit slow to learn them.
The vet brings us back to our goodbye by preparing the syringes and needles while explaining the procedure. She asks me how long I have had my dear "Temple" cat. "She was born in my first school bus home 20 years ago tomorrow," I choke out. Her mother went into labor at my feet under the covers in my bed. Her water breaking woke me up. The mother was lost while still nursing so I bottle fed her babies for a few days until they learned to eat." This sincere woman with a caring presence gave my first "baby" her shot while holding perfect space for me to allow my eyes to fill and drop... fill and drop. Yangette drifted off to sleep in my warm embracing lap. On her last great exhale I felt a part of her bubble up, out and into my heart. Literally. "So that is why we say someone will always be in our hearts" I thought. Energy is fascinating.
Yangette
You were born at my feet
Died in my lap
Entered my heart
And will leave through my crown
You are love incarnate
A sacred day
Is everyday
Until we meet again
Blessed be
"Mom"
Yangettes little body twitched and even breathed for nearly an hour after she had been pronounced dead. The vet checked her heart beat 3 extra times in disbelief.
She had never seen that before.
After volunteering a compassionate hug I swear the vet left with a look on her face that spoke of an encounter with the Twilight zone. But, maybe I'm projecting. Just think how the morning would have gone if my resident elder had been awake or my children had been home.
A few more tearful goodbyes.
A little womb dug in momma earth.
And it is back into the day.
Feel the magic.....
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
A Pearl not for...
A couple weeks ago as I removed the tape from my heart to return four of my powerful gems to their handmade wooden heart for safe keeping, I noticed my beloved pearl was missing. Somehow it had wiggled free from my little therapeutic bundle and dropped to the floor somewhere within 2400 square feet of walking space. A deep sigh of resignation was my release as I practiced non-attachment and I never even tried to find it on the cream colored carpet. It was a gift and it had obviously completed it's job so I gracefully thanked and let go while holding some tiny sparkle of hope with open eyes for receiving.
This morning I awoke with a poem calling to my finger tips. This is usually another lesson in non-attachment but since my mother is here visiting I allowed whimsy to carry me off to my favorite dimension. The poem flowed out fairly quickly and left me satisfied enough to title it as finished without waiting the allotted time to revisit it for refining. I began to read it out loud with a sleepily patient 'morning' Lili listening attentively as she strolled behind me on our way back into the school morning routine.
A Pearl not for...
"Heartbreaks empty wanting sorrow
was suddenly filled with a twenty pound shield
Fat cells plumped and gathered around her sacral Chakra
Every jiggling arm reflection
A stabbing reminder of her
superficial 'desirelessness'
Can soul to soul passion be found
Would wisdom drop a protective shield
even after thirteen years of playing at love
with a husband who demanded beauty
Even after a lifetime of conditional love from a father
who valued her form, was disappointed in her mind
and could never grasp her depths
We'll see...
Like King Arthur's choice of ancient 'witchy' wort cursed wife
by day or by night
We'll see...
For until the flame of true loves ecstatic burn
melts away her pounds of pain
her easy slender form will not reveal her again
He
the one she is waiting for
will have to cherish her soul first
It is the only way she will know his love is absolute"
Copyright 2011 Angela Bliss Light
I am speaking the full poem out loud for the first time when I turn to respond to Lili's gentle "Ouch." I hear the *Ping* as my precious pearl drops to the vinyl after Lili dislodges it from the bottom of her foot. My spirit jumps in amazement as my wide open eyes watch it roll towards my toes. Grace in action. I give thanks. So there it is...... a poem titled and finished by 7am. Yes, the house had been vacuumed and swept at least twice since losing my healing gem. =)
Feel the magic.....
This morning I awoke with a poem calling to my finger tips. This is usually another lesson in non-attachment but since my mother is here visiting I allowed whimsy to carry me off to my favorite dimension. The poem flowed out fairly quickly and left me satisfied enough to title it as finished without waiting the allotted time to revisit it for refining. I began to read it out loud with a sleepily patient 'morning' Lili listening attentively as she strolled behind me on our way back into the school morning routine.
A Pearl not for...
"Heartbreaks empty wanting sorrow
was suddenly filled with a twenty pound shield
Fat cells plumped and gathered around her sacral Chakra
Every jiggling arm reflection
A stabbing reminder of her
superficial 'desirelessness'
Can soul to soul passion be found
Would wisdom drop a protective shield
even after thirteen years of playing at love
with a husband who demanded beauty
Even after a lifetime of conditional love from a father
who valued her form, was disappointed in her mind
and could never grasp her depths
We'll see...
Like King Arthur's choice of ancient 'witchy' wort cursed wife
by day or by night
We'll see...
For until the flame of true loves ecstatic burn
melts away her pounds of pain
her easy slender form will not reveal her again
He
the one she is waiting for
will have to cherish her soul first
It is the only way she will know his love is absolute"
Copyright 2011 Angela Bliss Light
I am speaking the full poem out loud for the first time when I turn to respond to Lili's gentle "Ouch." I hear the *Ping* as my precious pearl drops to the vinyl after Lili dislodges it from the bottom of her foot. My spirit jumps in amazement as my wide open eyes watch it roll towards my toes. Grace in action. I give thanks. So there it is...... a poem titled and finished by 7am. Yes, the house had been vacuumed and swept at least twice since losing my healing gem. =)
Feel the magic.....
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Two Years in a Steady Path to Bliss.
Well dear world, or rather dear three followers, it has been two years of more personal challenges and intoxicating metamorphosis since I last posted on May 5th 2009. Everything is a reflection worth reflecting upon. Cinco De Mayo is a celebration of independence and a defeat of French troops two times the size of the Mexican troops they attacked. This was a defeat so phenomenal that a day of merry making is indulged in as a remembrance still, nearly 150 years later. I guess I will be adding my own personal defeat against the unruly factions of my mind to the meaning of May 5th for me.
The darkly surreptitious caverns in my soul which over and over again denied my access as I begged, flashlight in hand while meditating faithfully, just never lit up before excruciating challenge entered my reality. I had to give up everything in order to find all I ever wanted. It’s not like I’ve got it all but something imperative has shifted in my core to reveal sparkling inner jewels. I pleaded with the angels for time to "Follow my Bliss" and to be given the energy to stay up nights typing away and give at least 10 free healing sessions a week. “Am I asking so much?”, I would yell up to heaven, “All I have ever wanted to do is make a positive difference and you can’t even arrange for me to get some bloody sleep???!” I never really found the time to nurture the soul starved artist in me or even play much with my wildly inspiring daughters but I did find my sacred heart. Living daily with such monumental denial of personal needs took me screaming through every last shadowy recess in my being. I discovered myself completely and then....... grew able to love all I had unearthed. I was able to forgive myself and others on almost every level in my little human perception and even go deeper and deeper and deeper. I was a courageous explorer who has yelled and sworn around her children, prayed her ex would drop out of existence, experienced powerful envy of all the women who get to focus on just being momma's and even entertained the notion of ax murdering my ancient cat for premeditated peeing on my electric burner. I was rejected a second time by a salty old romance I had held so dearly in my dreams. I found myself with a poor body image, greying hair and way to many wrinkles that I didn't believe I should have cared about it. I knew better than that. I had talked to enough dead people to realize that we're on this blue and green ball for a short trip and attachment to our forms is a loss of the purest wisdom. I even forgave myself for getting my hair foiled and wearing make-up. Me, the tree hugging flower child, supporting chemicals on my skin and on my planet!! What I hope will be the most inspiring aspect of this journey is the love I feel for myself. I love the woman in me that could feel the fiery joy and shameful pain of an affair and still forgive myself just as much as I love the woman in me that could stay awake with a gentle grace at the beside of a dying woman for days. I love the woman in me who is free enough to grow and change everyday. I love myself without judgment and my soul is sipping on the sweet nectar of that limitlessness day and night.
Perhaps the real story is found somewhere between that hopeful eighteen year old girl wandering and whirling with her worn copy of The Power of Myth through the woods and the woman, mother, healer, "author", writing this now. Yet, the best story is what lies beyond, in my brand new life of independence. The unexpected constant strengthening of my inner smile is the gift of the demons. You see, by facing them and integrating them they fade to nothing in no time at all. Yes, I do believe my elation compares to that of our Mexican brothers that fateful morning in 1862 and if that is narcissistic..... well...... isn't that what makes a great blog....... naked narcissism? Happy Cinco De Mayo!!
The darkly surreptitious caverns in my soul which over and over again denied my access as I begged, flashlight in hand while meditating faithfully, just never lit up before excruciating challenge entered my reality. I had to give up everything in order to find all I ever wanted. It’s not like I’ve got it all but something imperative has shifted in my core to reveal sparkling inner jewels. I pleaded with the angels for time to "Follow my Bliss" and to be given the energy to stay up nights typing away and give at least 10 free healing sessions a week. “Am I asking so much?”, I would yell up to heaven, “All I have ever wanted to do is make a positive difference and you can’t even arrange for me to get some bloody sleep???!” I never really found the time to nurture the soul starved artist in me or even play much with my wildly inspiring daughters but I did find my sacred heart. Living daily with such monumental denial of personal needs took me screaming through every last shadowy recess in my being. I discovered myself completely and then....... grew able to love all I had unearthed. I was able to forgive myself and others on almost every level in my little human perception and even go deeper and deeper and deeper. I was a courageous explorer who has yelled and sworn around her children, prayed her ex would drop out of existence, experienced powerful envy of all the women who get to focus on just being momma's and even entertained the notion of ax murdering my ancient cat for premeditated peeing on my electric burner. I was rejected a second time by a salty old romance I had held so dearly in my dreams. I found myself with a poor body image, greying hair and way to many wrinkles that I didn't believe I should have cared about it. I knew better than that. I had talked to enough dead people to realize that we're on this blue and green ball for a short trip and attachment to our forms is a loss of the purest wisdom. I even forgave myself for getting my hair foiled and wearing make-up. Me, the tree hugging flower child, supporting chemicals on my skin and on my planet!! What I hope will be the most inspiring aspect of this journey is the love I feel for myself. I love the woman in me that could feel the fiery joy and shameful pain of an affair and still forgive myself just as much as I love the woman in me that could stay awake with a gentle grace at the beside of a dying woman for days. I love the woman in me who is free enough to grow and change everyday. I love myself without judgment and my soul is sipping on the sweet nectar of that limitlessness day and night.
Perhaps the real story is found somewhere between that hopeful eighteen year old girl wandering and whirling with her worn copy of The Power of Myth through the woods and the woman, mother, healer, "author", writing this now. Yet, the best story is what lies beyond, in my brand new life of independence. The unexpected constant strengthening of my inner smile is the gift of the demons. You see, by facing them and integrating them they fade to nothing in no time at all. Yes, I do believe my elation compares to that of our Mexican brothers that fateful morning in 1862 and if that is narcissistic..... well...... isn't that what makes a great blog....... naked narcissism? Happy Cinco De Mayo!!
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Biography of a Nobody
In the luscious privacy of the cool island lake, just past the no trespassing sign, her sun browned skin was being cleansed by the calm water. She floated blissfully, eyes closed in naked oneness and rays of light kissing her soul, as the last of the peppermint castile soap broke free from her knee length hair. Her heart beat in unison with that lake. A heart so tender, so divinely inspired...... it was forever on the verge of the deepest human sorrow and the unbridled giddiness of free soul joy. If you had used a bullhorn yelling ”Open your eyes! You are alone!” She would have smiled with the compassion a guru has for the willing ones at her feet If you had suggested she were lonely she would have giggled madly at your insanity. Though...... you probably would have been right. If you had whispered about her outward beauty she would have been filled with the desperation of a young woman's insecurity.... she would have wanted to believe you.... though she knew you were wrong. All you need to know to understand her, in that moment, is the absolute aliveness of her soul and how it flew beside the hummingbirds flirting with the wind. Her very blood coursed through the soil of these islands. This was the first summer of the rest of her life. She was finally free. A naive eighteen, so completely free!
At last the bombardment of life plan questions from well meaning strangers and family were ceasing. She graduated high school and was in search of life. Just one short month ago a day of contemplation had changed her forever. The voices poking at her soul had been replaying in her mind. “What are you going to do with your life?” “What are you going to be?” “Are you going to go to college?” “What will you study?” “Are you going to the school of hard knocks?” She had stood still surrounded by a labyrinth of paths before her, silencing the voices of others, making room for her own questions to float to the surface of her mind. Life seemed to be less than fulfilling at every turn. College seemed like more of the box, both socially and literally in the classroom. She ached for nature and would have just broken free. From outside the box, peering openly into a well planned life....... she couldn’t shake a terrifying lack of some unknown pathway. A way that would fill her that hadn’t been shown. Their had to be more than college, career, mortgage, marriage and children. She had witnessed each of her parents work for, fight for and lose more than one home. She had moved at least 10 times before she was even 3 years old. The impermanence had a made a indelible mark. To effort so extremely and lose anyway. There must be something more. If Einstein was correct, in that the universe was not just a series of chaotic happenings....... well she was missing a vital piece. That piece sat empty inside her.....begging....... calling out.......... staying elusive.
“What’s it all about?” She had grabbed her question like a world explorer firmly grasps his map. “What is it all about?” She simply sat her question up at the waters edge of her free flowing mind. It wasn’t knowingly a prayer, nor was it a true meditation. It was a quest for truth from the source of all...........both within and without. Several hours later a knowingness filled her empty space with a sudden intensity difficult to relay. “It is all about love!” Her body was tingling with a palpable love and her heart was singing for every man, woman and child. She was quite suddenly in love with the world. She had her answer. Her path would be one of love. She would move in the direction love took her. A phone call shook her from her reverie. It was a strikingly handsome African American body builder she had dated a year or two back. He had lost interest when she didn’t surrender her body to his overpowering needs. Now he was calling to reconnect. The poor boy asked her the question..............”What are you going to do with your life?” With her wide open heart, filled with the ecstasy of her first spiritual knowing, loving EVERYONE so totally.... she told him.... she told him exactly what she was going to with her life. She told him about love. He couldn’t get off the phone quick enough. As high as she had been....... she fell that far down when she realized how alone she would be now. I suppose an awakening in the company of 18 year olds would have been a bit much for anybody.....
At last the bombardment of life plan questions from well meaning strangers and family were ceasing. She graduated high school and was in search of life. Just one short month ago a day of contemplation had changed her forever. The voices poking at her soul had been replaying in her mind. “What are you going to do with your life?” “What are you going to be?” “Are you going to go to college?” “What will you study?” “Are you going to the school of hard knocks?” She had stood still surrounded by a labyrinth of paths before her, silencing the voices of others, making room for her own questions to float to the surface of her mind. Life seemed to be less than fulfilling at every turn. College seemed like more of the box, both socially and literally in the classroom. She ached for nature and would have just broken free. From outside the box, peering openly into a well planned life....... she couldn’t shake a terrifying lack of some unknown pathway. A way that would fill her that hadn’t been shown. Their had to be more than college, career, mortgage, marriage and children. She had witnessed each of her parents work for, fight for and lose more than one home. She had moved at least 10 times before she was even 3 years old. The impermanence had a made a indelible mark. To effort so extremely and lose anyway. There must be something more. If Einstein was correct, in that the universe was not just a series of chaotic happenings....... well she was missing a vital piece. That piece sat empty inside her.....begging....... calling out.......... staying elusive.
“What’s it all about?” She had grabbed her question like a world explorer firmly grasps his map. “What is it all about?” She simply sat her question up at the waters edge of her free flowing mind. It wasn’t knowingly a prayer, nor was it a true meditation. It was a quest for truth from the source of all...........both within and without. Several hours later a knowingness filled her empty space with a sudden intensity difficult to relay. “It is all about love!” Her body was tingling with a palpable love and her heart was singing for every man, woman and child. She was quite suddenly in love with the world. She had her answer. Her path would be one of love. She would move in the direction love took her. A phone call shook her from her reverie. It was a strikingly handsome African American body builder she had dated a year or two back. He had lost interest when she didn’t surrender her body to his overpowering needs. Now he was calling to reconnect. The poor boy asked her the question..............”What are you going to do with your life?” With her wide open heart, filled with the ecstasy of her first spiritual knowing, loving EVERYONE so totally.... she told him.... she told him exactly what she was going to with her life. She told him about love. He couldn’t get off the phone quick enough. As high as she had been....... she fell that far down when she realized how alone she would be now. I suppose an awakening in the company of 18 year olds would have been a bit much for anybody.....
Sunday, December 28, 2008
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