Earlier today I was thinking of intellectual honesty. A concept that keeps tugging at me. We can either labor a short time and build a sand castle or we can drink our time slowly, and build a shelter of many rooms to harbor lost souls.
The book I intend, to finally set sail, shall be such a vessel. A book that wanders through corridors and opens windows. As well as shut doors that once secretly invited in desperation, futility, and deceit. I realize I fight not against a fleshly foe but a spirit of confusion. The deadliest condition of man.
Note: I noticed I was missing this space. Yet find a greater need to go away. A push and pull. A tug and tightening encapsulates my heart. If anyone is feeling the same Id be grateful to connect and explore this dynamic.
Thank you for the earlier well wishes. I hope you all are doing well. Shalom. Jeanne
Solitude, isolation, are painful things and beyond human endurance. Jules Verne
It’s an interesting combination: Having a great fear of being alone, and having a desperate need for solitude and the solitary experience. That’s always been a tug of war for me. Jodie Foster