factual

time passes four times as quickly online as when I'm reading a book.  I'm going to stick closer to books from now on.

I look at you and my heart breaks.  Thanks a lot
for reminding me of God's unselfish love.

Lonely little voice.

If the best havings are wantings, I'm miserably rife with the desire to sing sing sing, only my voice isn't strong enough on its own.  Talk about an inevitable departure from independence.  Lessons, lessons, everywhere.  The tension here is like the water rocket at full pump or the rocks that cry out.  "I am weary of keeping it in!"
Indeed, I cannot.  I like to think I haven't been given this wanting simply for the want of having it.
So this is desire, patience.  My chest could burst or shrivel from this.  Time will tell.  Please, God --

Still, I guess that one little bird in its big open meadow is just as loud and clear as any.  If you've made me to sing, I'll sing.

To prefer myself is to deny You.

light, white light

I built my house from barley rice

Green pepper walls and water ice

Tables of paper wood, windows of light

And everything emptying into white.

Morning sun shine on me

Come light inside my window

And rest on my brow

And everything emptying into white