Share The Road

Share The Road

I discovered this sign on the way to the park. I think it has a meaning which transfers to places other than the road.


Catharsis. What’s next?

“The more anger towards the past you carry in your heart, the less capable you are of loving in the present.” – Barbara De Angelis

At my core, I’m a cynic. I state this because I am doing everything in my power to shed some of the more negative thoughts. My trek out to Leesylvania State Park was exactly what I needed; exercise and a chance to be in nature.

I realized that I’m an idiot (with a great tendency to word vomit). What I mean is that I’ve made mistakes which were not necessary; in response, I usually give in but I can’t because I am not that person anymore. I am one with hope.

All of this means is…I still ball everything up inside until it bursts or manifests itself in passive aggressive ways. For example, I almost blew up at my new boss yesterday. Almost. My tone was borderline incendiary until I caught myself. I note this because I usually handle these situations with diplomacy and I barely managed to save face. Also I’ve been easily agitated by coworkers; they could ask a simple question or say something innocent and I would snap, not in a manner that couldn’t be smoothed over, but very snipe-ish.

In retrospect, I’m realizing how much I needed my new job. Over the last four months, I’ve rediscovered myself. No ego or drama to get in my path. Many of my coworkers are people I can relate to easily and see myself hanging out with. That said, they also remind me of the camaraderie I once had, the job I had invested so much of me in, and the fall. And if/when it affected those around me, I regret that wholeheartedly.

I’ve preached letting go and moving on, and I’ve truly done neither. I feel as though I’ve taken a few steps back. Granted, I still know what’s in front of me, have the tools to accomplish it, and retained my overall focus. It’s the toll of it all.

Bye for now, KS.


The Stellar Tide

When I was small,

I wanted to be an Astronaut,

ride in a humongous rocket,

into the depths of space,

that umbra toned stuff stars lay in,

the Moon,

the stars,

dying in the night,

the planets,

similar divergent to our own,

floating the stellar tide,

I ride,

perhaps I hide,

maybe it’s because…

I can’t hear any voices,

no sounds,

vocalizations which make connection,

I can’t stand the silence,

the absence of familiar flesh,

amorous smells,

sequences which incite laughter,

I am on my own,

in the cold alone,

held together by impressions, 

glued down to the canvas,

of gray matter,

no…of red matter,

the heart,

asking questions the silent can’t sate,

yet my cardiac vessels beat,

thrive with life,

fight of living,

built for survival,

as the stellar tide comes in,

I reminisce,

back to days that echoed imagination,

where love was imaginary,

where I was not fully formed,

I levitate in the excess,

the expanse of it all,

calming motions,

flips and dives,

as solar gases burn,

I breathe another breath,

begin again,

in its brilliance,

from my point of view,

the tide doesn’t swallow,

or consume,

it opens a door,

one which comprehends mutes.




The Finer Points of Conversation

“We are masters of the unsaid words, but slaves of those we let slip out.” – Winston Churchill

Today was one of those days where I was reminded of the merits and pitfalls of conversation. Being a conversationalist is not always a slam dunk. Speaking of slam dunks and basketball vernacular, conversation is like a basketball, dialogue is like a shot, and being a conversationalist is akin to a shooting guard. Some games, every shot will go in, whether it’s a free throw, three pointer, or a standard field goal. Conversely, there are games where air balls, bricks, and free throws spite gravity [and the rim].

My point is that wielding conversation avidly can be a double-edged sword.There are so many ways to miss during an normal exchange.

Here’s a link (stating exactly what I’m thinking here): 

As a conversationalist, I live and die by the sword, on a daily basis. In fact, my skills are sharper because I am fully aware of its ebb and flow; knowing this, I can navigate the verbal waters with relative ease. But even I mess up or put my foot in it sometimes…

Bye for now, KS.

“Be like water …

“Be like water making its way through cracks. Do not be assertive, but adjust to the object, and you shall find a way around or through it. If nothing within you stays rigid, outward things will disclose themselves.

“Empty your mind, be formless. Shapeless, like water. If you put water into a cup, it becomes the cup. You put water into a bottle and it becomes the bottle. You put it in a teapot, it becomes the teapot. Now, water can flow or it can crash. Be water, my friend.” – Bruce Lee