"It's weird to think that in this very moment someone is lying alone in their death bed, balancing between life and death or reuniting with an old lover tightly wrapped in a warm embrace or writing a suicide note, pondering different ways to say goodbye right in this moment someone's heart is fluttering from a first kiss and someone is breaking from a goodbye." 

~ H.C. ~

Crying Woolf

The eyes of others our prisons; their thoughts our cages.

Virginia Woolf

Priority Mail

I am a wildflower you discovered on your daily nature walk.

I am a simple species, or so I like to believe.

Lacking the extravagance of certain exotic and favorite blooms, I often sway in nature’s hidden rooms. 

When you find me you will know whether I am a keepsake, replaceable, or merely admirable.

Then, by how the sun continues shining on my face or if I feel a new embrace

– I  will  know  too.

Love Letter

In love perhaps we are all too careful

When we fear we’ll be unraveled.

Perhaps we are too suited, too layered up.

Not opening up of self, not emotionally available enough.

I want to tell you that—

I LOVE YOU.

I liked you with time, and soon loved too.

I want to share all that I am with you,

And I hope that you can see this desire.

Don’t give up on me, and I hope to not push you away in the mire.

The world out is dark, could we light one last spark,

Make it a hearty flame that no one can tame?

We’ll warm by it like it’s fall, like the season of my birth.

Sharing joys, and hopes, and mirth.

I want you to be mine.

Story of My Life

Well said 8-year old somewhere in the world, well said.

For Whom The Birds Chirp (They Chirp For You)

     It's Friday, June 5, 12:39AM and for some reason all the birds in my neighborhood are having a get-together on our lawns. This is the fourth night in a row that after my night shift I come home, to my room, and sit on my bed to the whistles and chirps of these night creatures. It's funny, it's silly, it just doesn't make sense to me. I'm sure there are some peer-reviewed articles in the endless web from an ecological journal society dedicated to the phenomenon I have observed, but I have not taken the time to look it up. 

...................................................................................................

   I kind of like not knowing why these birds are all of a sudden so awake, so seemingly energized this late/early. Call me a dreamer, a right-brainer, a sentimentalist but I kind of see it as God talking to me. The truth is "upon every flower is written God is love" and I'll take any notion of that I can find. I guess that's what desperation does to a person. I'm just glad God doesn't give up on desperate people.

 The life of a scientist is one of constant ambiguity. One has to be okay with theorems, almost nothing is a fact. I like science. Growing up I was okay with not having an answer for everything — so long as I knew I would get to one eventually. Science is finding a potential answer until you find another potential answer, etc, etc, but mostly science is just about finding.