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"You build on failure. You use it as a stepping stone. Close the door on the past. You don't try to forget the mistakes, but you don't dwell on it. You don't let it have any of your energy, or any of your time, or any of your space."
- Johnny Cash
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Posted by Leanna - Sunday, September 28, 2014 - 1:47am
'bring me all of your dreams
you dreamer,
bring me all your
heart melodies
that I may wrap them
in a blue cloud-cloth
away from the too-rough fingers
of the world'
'
Posted by Leanna - Friday, September 26, 2014 - 8:49am
I don’t know what to say other than I’ve been feeling empty as empty can be. It seems as if my life is a circle- a great, big, vast circle that is never ending and eternal and I have witnessed personally that the beginning of something is always reminiscent of the end; it will persist in repeating and replaying itself over and over until the rightful lessons are learned and the important pieces are taken with you and carried within the pocket that is your heart. Now I have truly recognized that when personalities and situations reappear it is because you haven’t learned the first time, therefore you must get it right, you must pass these “tests” until you are able to forgive yourself and move on. “Remembering” is what we call it. Forgiving oneself is the key piece in all of this. If you do not forgive, you are unable to forget. Dwelling within any negative past memories is counterproductive and not what the Soul was meant for. The Soul is meant to grow and stretch and prosper with any and new experiences; never dwelling and wallowing in sorrow but taking your sorrow and turning it into joy. Your joy is your sorrow unmasked. Remember that eternal life is not far at all. ‘The enduring life is the one that begins once we awaken from this world. And it is in that awakening that we realize... It was only a dream.’
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Posted by Leanna - Thursday, September 25, 2014 - 7:23pm
it is the reflection of the setting sun in her eyes. it is the hue of the tears that she cries deep into her pillow when she believes that everyone else is asleep. it is the echo of your heartbeat when you hold her against you. it is the taste of her kiss. it is the way that she shushes you with her fingertip against your lips, lingering like an endless sentence though nothing is spoken. it is the remnant of lust that you leave all over her body in the throes of passion. it is the sound of her orgasm. it is the dying ember of your last cigarette. it is the scent of her perfume on your sheets after you wake alone in an empty bed. it is the wound that the razor leaves on porcelain skin. it is the shade of the weeping flowers abandoned in the hallway. it is the burning ache of your broken heart. it is the color of love.
