Sometimes life moves too fast.
I remember powdered dust between my toes and the sun on my skin as I walked down the road in dry season. Sometimes I can still hear the cowbells over the next hill. They haunt me. What kind of dream am I living, sitting here in my whitewashed drywall box? This dream is killing me.
It’s hard work, not running away from your choices. If you fall down don’t cry. And for heaven’s sake, don’t run away, because decisions are arbitrary, like that C+ I got after my teacher told me “this paper is as good as they get.”
I should have been a philosophy major, or studied World Religions. My favorite classes at EMU have been with Nancy Heisey, Christian Early, Terri Jantzi, and Peter Dula. Philosophy, religion, and a little overdose of cynicism. Maybe I’ve been led astray. Maybe I’m too far gone. But I’d rather question truth than live a lie.
11 If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me
and the light become night around me,”
12 even the darkness will not be dark to you;
the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to you.