The Night Prophet « My, My, My, Its a Beautiful World, or something «
Introduction, to beautiful world
My, my, my its a beautiful world, or something.
The Saint and I came to know each other at first through words. We had two mediums then; e-mail and the good old US Postal service. I looked forward to the letters with equal need and excitement. That summer between my Junior and Senior year of college I worked on the road with one of our "Family's" construction crews. Before you think to highly of me, I actually was a flagger, or just that girl holding the stop sign at the beginning of a road block. That can be a story for later or maybe not.
The Saint decided that summer of 99' that we would write at least one beautiful thing we experienced in every particular day. So on June 25th, 1999, I was happy that it didn't rain and I wasn't feeling too hung~over (after doing shots with guys the night before). The things I would deem as beautiful then, are a far distance from what defines beauty for me now.
Which brings me to now, June 18th, 2008, nearly a decade and ten thousand lifetimes later. I know that sounds trite, but right now trite seems to work in a way that perfect articulation will not.
I took on the world for a while. I found myself on a big city avenue with a group of friends that will never be severed. There are too many people to count that have been part of who I am. (Maybe more to come on that). I met and married a person that nearly buried me emotionally or otherwise. (That is all I will ever have to say about "him") I finally made it back to Montana, to the Saint... only to get a brain tumor, go into a coma, nearly die, woke up in MN, but picked up and kept going. Not long after recovery, I would find out I have Job's syndrome, an auto-immune disorder that is just crap.
I started treatment of Zolair, through a medical and insurance loophole. The medication itself is black boxed and yet to go mainstream. I am a lab rat in some definition. The days following each treatment feels as if my head is housing a train station and my stomach is it's trash cans. I have a bone tumor on my right pelvis and hope that just resides in me with a no fire truce I tricked it into signing.
I have hit the bottom. I took a long slick dive off the cliff of me into nothing. I can not describe the place, but if you have been here...you know exactly what I am talking about.
So God bless the Saint, and this a crying lament and attempt to find one beautiful thing in each day. So today it just getting me to move my fingers on a computer that I can't relate to.
So this is the introduction to my beautiful things, or something.
The Saint and I came to know each other at first through words. We had two mediums then; e-mail and the good old US Postal service. I looked forward to the letters with equal need and excitement. That summer between my Junior and Senior year of college I worked on the road with one of our "Family's" construction crews. Before you think to highly of me, I actually was a flagger, or just that girl holding the stop sign at the beginning of a road block. That can be a story for later or maybe not.
The Saint decided that summer of 99' that we would write at least one beautiful thing we experienced in every particular day. So on June 25th, 1999, I was happy that it didn't rain and I wasn't feeling too hung~over (after doing shots with guys the night before). The things I would deem as beautiful then, are a far distance from what defines beauty for me now.
Which brings me to now, June 18th, 2008, nearly a decade and ten thousand lifetimes later. I know that sounds trite, but right now trite seems to work in a way that perfect articulation will not.
I took on the world for a while. I found myself on a big city avenue with a group of friends that will never be severed. There are too many people to count that have been part of who I am. (Maybe more to come on that). I met and married a person that nearly buried me emotionally or otherwise. (That is all I will ever have to say about "him") I finally made it back to Montana, to the Saint... only to get a brain tumor, go into a coma, nearly die, woke up in MN, but picked up and kept going. Not long after recovery, I would find out I have Job's syndrome, an auto-immune disorder that is just crap.
I started treatment of Zolair, through a medical and insurance loophole. The medication itself is black boxed and yet to go mainstream. I am a lab rat in some definition. The days following each treatment feels as if my head is housing a train station and my stomach is it's trash cans. I have a bone tumor on my right pelvis and hope that just resides in me with a no fire truce I tricked it into signing.
I have hit the bottom. I took a long slick dive off the cliff of me into nothing. I can not describe the place, but if you have been here...you know exactly what I am talking about.
So God bless the Saint, and this a crying lament and attempt to find one beautiful thing in each day. So today it just getting me to move my fingers on a computer that I can't relate to.
So this is the introduction to my beautiful things, or something.
