All Uphill

When the road you are trudging seems all uphill.

We're the ones who draw the line

I woke up this morning from a night full of night terrors. I kept seeing that Aryanna was horribly  sick, I couldn't do anything to help her. Then I saw her little body somehow, in a way that makes no sense, was hanging on the hallway. I got up, tried to wake up Gabe crying in my half sleep/awake state. Thankfully he was tired enough that he looked at me confused and rolled back to sleep. I ran to the hallway with real tears, stood before her door, could hear everything was calm. I  took a deep breath and realized it was another night terror, one that repeated all night. The rest of the night I was tossing and turning and arguing with shadows in our room.

I know where this nightmares come from. I need to write about that in another post. I woke up sad and exhusted. As every morning checked my email and then the news. In the news there was a story about a young Australian man who was jogging outside her girlfriend's home in Oklahoma, he got shot and killed by three bored teenager, according to their own statement they were just bored. What a way to start your morning after such night. I read part of a very touching poem in that article. I looked it up, it is from the song posted below. This is one random blog post, I know. I will write more and more coherently soon. These  words none the least illustrate my current chaotic state of mind about life, health, religion, politics and future. For now, read this beautiful poem that fits my morning, my night, my last week and honestly all that has been lingering on the back of my head for the past few years.

"Everyday Glory"

In the house where nobody laughs
And nobody sleeps
In the house where love lies dying
And the shadows creep
A little girl hides shaking
With her hands on her ears
Pushing back the tears
'Til the pain disappears

Mama says some ugly words
Daddy pounds the wall
They can fight about their little girl later
Right now they don't care at all

No matter what they say...
No matter what they say...
No matter what they say...
No matter what they say...

Everyday people
Everyday shame
Everyday promise shot down in flames
Everyday sunrise
Another everyday story
Rise from the ashes and blaze
In everyday glory

In the city where nobody smiles
And nobody dreams
In the city where desperation
Drives the bored to extremes
Just one spark of decency
Against a starless night
One glow of hope and dignity
A child can follow the light

No matter what they say...
No matter what they say...
No matter what they say...
No matter what they say...

Everyday people
Everyday shame
Everyday promise shot down in flames
Everyday sunrise
Another everyday story
Rise from the ashes and blaze
In everyday glory

If the future's looking dark
We're the ones who have to shine
If there's no one in control
We're the ones who draw the line
Though we live in trying times
We're the ones who have to try
Though we know that time has wings
We're the ones who have to fly...

from a song called Everyday Glory, written by Neil Peart

It is the same everywhere

Meet most people in the middle and let's do something, or stay where you are, extreme of either left or right and keep yelling to be heard. At some point you will loose your voice, then you have to get closer to us. We will still welcome you. We have been waiting for a while.

It is dark out.

It was dark out. It would have been quiet if not for the occasional car passing by the road across the lake outside, and the small cricket complaining of his loneliness. Inside, by the window, sheltered from the dark, she was sitting on the coach reading in the little light the lamp beside her offered. The night had barely began, two pages into her book, her mind was wandering off to the fixations of her day. There were too much to think about, to worry for, to accomplish and the pages of her book were loosing the fight. She closed her eyes as I listened for any sound,  the quite sound of a door closing perhaps. His fingers reached for mine.

 The room is silent,  no sound from the road, or the lake, or the cricket. The night has only begun.

There is none.

One exhausting week after another. Life is great and I used to hate sarcasm and be hopeful.

Not Tonight

I will think about it tomorrow.
I will think about everything tomorrow but not tonight.

Rain, rain and some more rain

Spring is nice, but we have been having spring showers since early winter. All this green comes with a price: long gloomy rainy days. I now know I could not live in London.