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“You have been telling people that this is the eleventh hour.
Now you must go back and tell people that this is the hour!
And there are things to be considered:
Where are you living?
What are you doing?
What are your relationships?
Are you in right relation?
Where is your water?
Know your Garden.
It is time to speak your truth.
Create your community.
Be good to yourself.
And not look outside of yourself for a leader.
This could be a good time!
There is a river flowing very fast.
It is so great and fast that there are those who will be afraid.
They will hold on to the shore.
They will feel that they are being torn apart, and they will suffer greatly.
Know that the river has its destination.
The elders say that we must let go of the shore,
push off into the middle of the river,
keep our eyes open,
and our heads above the water.
See who is in there with you and celebrate.
At this time we are to take nothing personally,
least of all, ourselves.
For the moment that we do,
our spiritual growth comes to a halt.
The time of the lone wolf is over.
Gather yourselves!
Banish the word struggle from your attitude and your vocabulary.
All that we do now must be done in a sacred manner and in celebration.
We are the ones that we have been waiting for.”

- The Elders, Oraibi, Arizona Hopi Nation

I got stuck
between the bed
and the wall
with the thumbtacks
and your old hat
crushed against
a padded bra.

When I left
I was certain
There was no
remaining Mark.
I got stuck
in the island
between the bed
and the wall.

I had a dream we were making out in a small room of deep fryers.

let it go-the
smashed word broken
open vow or
the oath cracked length
wise-let it go it
was sworn to

let them go-the
truthful liars and
the false fair friends
and the boths and
neithers-you must let them go they
were born
to go

let all go-the
big small middling
tall bigger really
the biggest and all
things-let all go
so comes love

How many weeks in a row can you eat eggs in a basket for dinner before it becomes unhealthy?

Holy shit, I've been crying about Mark for a while now, haven't I?
Time to let go.

names make so much sense out of a person.

Fuck Me Like Fried Potatoes
by Richard Brautigan

Fuck me like fried potatoes
on the most beautifully hungry
morning of my God-damn life.

"only unfulfilled love can be romantic"

Mark! Mark stop, when do you think you want to go?

I asked. Moe. Oh my god! did you hear me say that! I asked. Stunned. I meant Moe, you know I did. And I got looks from people that vaguely know the story.
The mark story.

And wear do I begin, drunk and heartbroken-long after I should be dwelling on this boy. Long after our first kiss was younger, sillier-long before you left your blue striped shirt here. Long before you pleaded that you would try, and when I knew you didn't know how to.

And I am so in love with you, you idiot. You pointless scrap of mathematics, calculating my imperfections better than I can. What gives you the right to be the name I slip when talking to a whole different, perfect person?
WHo told you that you could be the one distracting from all the others.

Who told you to stop be from working? From diminishing into something I am terrified of becoming? Who took my motivation away from me-who gives me that motivation?
And I would be a liar if in the back of my head I did not compare them all to you.. to the person that makes me want t odo these trivial things that might one day be art, or be the teaching of it. I'm not sure what I love more. I am not sure of not loving you.

You devastated the idea that I could be alone and be happy.

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