...then as it was, then again it will be...

..well, she looks at you so coolly...and her eyes shine like the moon in the sea...

...on the wings of maybe, down in birds of prey...

...Kind of makes makes me feel sometimes
Didn't have to grow
We are eagles of one nest
The nest is in our soul...

What does it come down to? These questions, day in, day out. This loneliness. The confusion. The thought that my life is somewhere else...in a country where they turn back time...definitely not here, not in this stolen nest. I long for the nest of my soul, for Home.

I'm just restless. I'm always restless...just sometimes, it's worse than other times.

...to return to the center...

...and I knew...in the crystalline knowledge of you...drove me through the mountains...

There are so few things in life I am sure of. But far to the South is Home, and I know She waits for me; I am sure of that. I wish I understood why the City haunts me, but I don't; I just know that She does. I know that over the years the need for Her has not lessened. I know that over the years the only thing that has kept me from fleeing Home, kept me from disregarding all that I am beholden to, all that I owe - the only thing keeping me even now from forgetting all that I am and all that I have - is love. In the beginning, many years ago now, before I understood, before wisdom, my childish selfishness was angered by this thwarting....please, somebody won't you take me, to the City Beneath the Sea...I resented my life. I don't resent my life anymore; but wisdom begets sadness sometimes, and this is one of those cases...how long can I stay away?...keen is my love for the City, but keener is my love for the Beloveds.

...somewhere out in the back of your mind, comes your real life, and the life that you know....

This is life: the real life, and the life that you know. And very soon comes the life that I know. My regular, every day days are divided in two: the work day, which is what it is; and my day - the life at home, the life of the creative mind, the life with family and friends, the life with the Captain. Three times a year I am given the chance to live only The Life That I Know: Mardi Gras, our annual trip to Baltimore, and Christmas. Weekends are not long enough...though they afford me brief glimpses of what I am. But those three times a year - I live for them. And one is coming soon: Christmas break.

...she had heaven...she held on so tight...a man makes a picture...a moving picture...through the light projector he can see himself up close...

...I feel like I'm swimming out to her...midnight is where the day begins...

I'm not...depressed, so much as ponderous. I've made the mistake lately of talking too much, thinking too hard, and not sleeping enough. This flesh - it is a master, and a fickle, demanding one at that. I used to be a creature of the mind, always seemed to have been a creature whose life was lived in the mind. How do I balance that creature with this bones-and-blood one now?

...blame it on my wild heart....

Now I have time to consider these questions, time and the chance to breathe and sleep.

...a (wo)man dreams of leaving...but (s)he always stays behind...

...sometimes I feel like I'm on the verge: either of madness or enlightenment. Maybe both. But they both mean freedom.