Finishing touches

content/poet-and-mystic/003.md

@@ -6,7 +6,7 @@ weight: 41
 March 10, 2004:
 
 ```
-This morning, I had an awful time waking up, but I eventually did it, making it to Shannon's on time to get everyone picked up for the BREAKFAST OF DOOM, whereupon we all ate ourselves sick and I spent money. We wandered around for a bit before ending up sprawled in a fire-escape at FHS with Shannon in my lap, me in Ash's lap, and Andrew in Kiran's lap. Andrew ditched to go shooting with Ash and Kiran, while I went to bomb a history test. That's when things started getting really weird. I had a percoset relapse (whether that's what it was or not, it felt oddly similar to the real thing: an incurable itch buried beneath my skin, to the point where I can't actually scratch it) near the end of the period, and then in choir I imploded from empathy - so many emotions from others that I had no room for my own. Then, horns grew from my chest and head, and wings from my back; a giant fox escaped, left, and exploded into a thousand birds over Viele. Mind you, none of this really happened, but I sure felt strange. During latin, I exploded from empathy in a patchwork swirl of colors while Starin et al. stared on as I banged my head against the desk. Ms. Gibert didn't notice. I yelled for help inaudibly and searched out white points of light in the black silhouette of Boulder. I yelled at Ash and searched for Moondog.
+We wandered around for a bit before ending up sprawled in a fire-escape at FHS with Shannon in my lap, me in Ash's lap, and Andrew in Kiran's lap. Andrew ditched to go shooting with Ash and Kiran, while I went to bomb a history test. That's when things started getting really weird. I had a percoset relapse (whether that's what it was or not, it felt oddly similar to the real thing: an incurable itch buried beneath my skin, to the point where I can't actually scratch it) near the end of the period, and then in choir I imploded from empathy - so many emotions from others that I had no room for my own. Then, horns grew from my chest and head, and wings from my back; a giant fox escaped, left, and exploded into a thousand birds over Viele. Mind you, none of this really happened, but I sure felt strange. During latin, I exploded from empathy in a patchwork swirl of colors while Starin et al. stared on as I banged my head against the desk. Ms. Gibert didn't notice. I yelled for help inaudibly and searched out white points of light in the black silhouette of Boulder. I yelled for Ash and searched for Moondog.
 
 Afterwards, I figured out how to regain control (mostly) and just in time for the bell to ring. I got a small mocha at Cafe Sole, got eaten by small greenish crystals on a table while supposed psychics did fairy readings from a kids book, and here I am, about to take a shower and get ready for Great Works rehearsal, and then group, whereupon I shall request to Reiki Moondog (again) during the speakers board on gay marriage. Hopefully I don't ex-/im-plode again ^^
 ```
@@ -14,7 +14,7 @@ Afterwards, I figured out how to regain control (mostly) and just in time for th
 April 12, 2004:
 
 ```
-You have come, finally, to a safe place. You have arrived at the point where it counts most, the point at which Life itself seems to fall away, leaving behind nothing of it's former shell: that blackened husk of body and mind that housed a bright bright star. Years and years, it took, places and places and each day offering good and bad, but you, lucky you, saw past that, saw beyond the grid of your perception to see inside others, touching and caressing the bright points of light that were essentially them, cherishing each for not only their good points, but for their faults as well. The energy flowed around and through you in the concentric spirals of [1st symbol] and the Bat Qol kept you clean and pure with the voice of God and the Buddha in me to the Buddha in you weaved everything under the sun into Life itself. This is Rapture.
+You have come, finally, to a safe place. You have arrived at the point where it counts most, the point at which Life itself seems to fall away, leaving behind nothing of it's former shell: that blackened husk of body and mind that housed a bright bright star. Years and years, it took, places and places and each day offering good and bad, but you, lucky you, saw past that, saw beyond the grid of your perception to see inside others, touching and caressing the bright points of light that were essentially them, cherishing each for not only their good points, but for their faults as well. The energy flowed around and through you in the concentric spirals of the labyrinth and the Bat Qol kept you clean and pure with the voice of God and the Buddha in me to the Buddha in you weaved everything under the sun into Life itself. This is Rapture.
 ```
 
 June 7, 2004:
@@ -45,6 +45,7 @@ You're an elusive bugger, that's what you are.
 You're depressing, too.
 
 
+
 ...hello?
 ```
 

content/poet-and-mystic/005.md

@@ -7,7 +7,7 @@ weight: 42
 
 You know.
 
-> Yes, but it is important that you make it. What are you aiming at.
+> Yes, but it is important that you make it.
 
 *It's the immediacy, the seamless immediacy...*
 

content/poet-and-mystic/012.md

@@ -14,17 +14,3 @@ How does one hunt down what leaves no tracks?
 How does one call down the gods to commune?
 
 > Speak thrice, and enter.
-
-I'm tired. I'm so tired. I'm tired and I'm upset and I'm lost.
-
-> I know.
-
-I want to shout and to whisper. I want to talk about how I feel when I read Stevens or Esch or Rilke. I want to put words to the feeling of falling to the ground and taking root.
-
-I want to say how it feels when I step outside myself.
-
-> You tried.
-
-I guess that's all I can do.
-
-> It's not, but it's important that you have tried.

content/poet-and-mystic/013.md

@@ -0,0 +1,18 @@
+---
+date: 2019-08-25
+weight: 51
+---
+
+I'm tired. I'm so tired. I'm tired and I'm upset and I'm lost.
+
+> I know.
+
+I want to shout and to whisper. I want to talk about how I feel when I read Stevens or Esch or Rilke. I want to put words to the feeling of falling to the ground and taking root.
+
+I want to say how it feels when I step outside myself.
+
+> You tried.
+
+I guess that's all I can do.
+
+> It's not, but it's important that you have tried.