I want to find my bliss, but if I make it a mission then it goes all down hill, so then how do I find my bliss if I am supposed to be searching for it but not at that same time? Does that make any sense? I think the answer lies in the wise words of "just do what you feel like". If I do what I love and forget to hunt down my bliss then I would wander to it, right? It's like trying to catch a butterfly, when you chase them, they fly away from you, but if you forget them and go about your business they land on you. So your bliss is a butterfly.
The other day, I went to a show with dueling pianos with my family. Let me tell you, it was a blast! I highly recommend going to see something like that because I was laughing my butt off. At one point they had a woman come up and hold the harmonica for one of the men playing "Piano Man" and whenever she didn't hold it up to his mouth on time, he would try to play without it to give her the hint. He make a "ththththththt" sound until she put it to his lips. Yepp, pretty darn great. I was glad that I was not in the front row, so I wouldn't be picked.
While I was in Ireland, I saw many great shows and performances in the theatre. It was amazing, and so powerful, but my favorite part of going had to be when I was able to explore the countryside. I really enjoyed going to see the Cliffs of Insanity (the Princess Bride anyone?) a.k.a. the Cliffs of Moher. SO beautiful! And even though you are not supposed to lean over the edge, I still did. I know I live on the edge. I am that cool.
Then I climbed many little stepping stones that create the Giants of Causeway. These were all created naturally by lava deep in the ocean, but many like to think that it was a bridge where giants would cross to get from Ireland to Scotland because these stones reemerge near Scotland. Pretty neat, right?
F.Y.I Giants of Causeway is in Northern Ireland while the Cliffs of Moher is in the Republic of Ireland.
Just ignore me in the pictures and look at the landscape.
However, if you notice I do look good in these photos, a friend of mine asked me "who wouldn't look good with Ireland in the background?"
Hmmm... I don't know.
I told the wise man this morning that I would share a poem that I wrote for a previous class today. It's an attempt at a sonnet. I hope you enjoy!
The Ugly Truth
your molasses
words linger in naïve ears
puffs of white
breath falter out into the dark sky
sweet soft words
mislead but you’re still a dear
I watch the
parade while you casually brush my thigh
secret side
glances are shared, you are wrong
you grab my hand
and I flinch in revulsion
together and
rotten, we don’t belong
you cannot stop
this new revolution
swiftly I pull
away from your bruising grip
your talons
infect my roughly gouged wounds
poison diffuses
and slowly blood drips
this does not
work, my witty immunity confounds
eyes huge, you
realize you shall not conquer
the sweet façade
slackens, you’re a monster.
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