I remain a silly girl.

I'm feeling more readily the threat of completion. It came to me on the wings of a moth.

Tonight i walked slowly so as to keep my eye on the concrete. I knew for real that i could be consummately satisfied to see nothing but the passing of the sidewalk for the remainder of my life. I had been wrong all along: there exists in me no need. I am not in waiting.

It seems sometimes so clear, and so clearly impossible to explain. Everything must be awed by all that it sees. I find my breath distracting in its stubborn constancy. It refuses my eyes.

In witness to my surroundings i know of God. If all that He's given to us is good, than that which is bad is ours alone. It's where i have an absence of fear. Still, as true as we are the creators of our terror, so have we become the makers of beauty. It is obvious even so close as in the irony of our dread of evil. Whatever can leave me damaged is enslaved by my will...

but none of this is mine to evince.

Faretheewell folk,
-Talthea (8/22/04)