My Hands Hold my Heart

First, this may not be news to anyone else, but I am reasonably certain that Mumford and Sons could be the most gorgeous music to ever exist. You basically can't do anything but listen, for real. amazing.
On that same note - pun not intended so much as unavoidable - I'm been doing plenty of writing myself and first, let me note this: if you are a grammar fiend and happen to adore reading mangled manuscripts written in a frenzy, let me know. Still trying to redeem the historical novel, because I really think it has promise if it can recover from my merciless infliction of periods.
That wasn't my point though:
What I really wanted to post was just a little piece of a larger poem I wrote. I can't show you the whole thing because I think I might want to try and get it published, maybe - it's significantly different than things I've written before, and I can't for the life of me come up with a title for it, but here it is in it's minimal glory, and hopefully it shares just a bit of life and love and glory with you.
We need just a bit of those things to carry with us every day.

"I wait for you in my dreams

on the street corners, in the wishing well and

I wait and I dream and I wish of you,

only you, and I wait,

I wait,

I wait only for you because

when we meet we’ll be always, forever,

together, and somewhere in this world we

will find peace and

the kind of love that moves the mountains and

shakes the oceans deep beneath their waves for

the fullness of the glory and beauty and wonder

contained in a tiny mustard seed."

Think on these things. There's glory and beauty and wonder all around us, friends. As long as we have eyes to see.

Listens like Spring

This is just a quick note on a few things, as most of my notes are. I've actually written innumerable very witty, intelligent, lovely blog posts, only I never get them up on here.

So far, though, I'd like to say that, first of all, I'm on new meds, and allow me to say this: friends, I be trippin'. For real, I find myself typing things that should never have been, wanting to drop off to sleep, uncertain of what has happened - oh it's bad guys. It's bad.

On a happier note, they have stopped the spasms as long as I take them at the right times.

Another note: Pandora is the best thing to ever happen to me. I found the most wonderful music on there - although I can tell you that trying to write my paper that I don't want to write anyways is not being made easier by listening to Landon Pigg's "Falling in Love At A Coffee Shop" and Joshua Radin's "I'd Rather Be With You" - trust me, all I want to do at the moment is fall into a lovely daydream of finally meeting my man o' dreams and loving him so much it terrifies me. Someday, folks. Maybe, someday.

Last note: I've started doing some querying! I sent a short story off to a magazine a few days ago, and I queried an agent about my historical fiction novel - though that received a reject in less than twenty-four hours. Depressing, yes, but I shall continue.

It's alot, and I find it more depending on my health on a given day: work, school,writing. But life is short guys - and there's lovely music, mulled cider candles, tossed together apple desserts and dreams that tomorrow might contain any number of wonderful things.
Life is a wild and wonderful thing, don't you think?