I'm currently reading the book Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. My friend Lauren passed the book along to me saying she thought I would like it. I'm absolutely moved by this book and I feel as if it was given to me at the right moment in time. It is uncanny how well I identify and find myself aligned with her stories, observations, concerns, doubts, interests, and thoughts. I'm receiving advice, guidance, and support from a piece of literature more so than my own friends. What an oddity. What an indirect blessing.
I aspire to write a book one day. I've guessed it to be a fictional love story based on my real life experience, or an ethnography covering my time spent with an unknown indigenous people, or perhaps it will be a travelogue of all that I've encountered in my x number of years of traveling. I would love to be published one day for a great piece of work in which I've let my heart guide the pen.
There's nothing quite like the taste of salt on your lips after you've cried out your despair and disappointment. Or to see the water stains of your tear droplets form on the pages of your latest journal entry or hand-written letter. Or the solo tear that traces the sadness from the corner of your eye down the curves of your cheek and then lingers lightly on your chin deciding if it wants to fall into the unknown or remain in the moment.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
This was beautiful. Never has crying seemed less pathetic and more poetic than in these words.
ReplyDeleteI heart you. :)