"We're still trying to locate us."

A Pilgrim at Tinker Creek - done. Find the gaps and dwell in them.

Where do you go from here? You and me? Everybody. These thoughts make little sense. Watching the divine conspiracy unfold and engulf. Its hard to see where you stand in relation to your feelings, but very rarely your thoughts. I have a lot of thoughts. I have a lot of feelings. So what do you do? You walk into whatever dark room is in front of you and gently whisper, "I'm coming in and if there is something waiting for me then I will face it." Sitting in the dark and waiting. "Sit in this awhile and ponder your place." I'll find that light switch. I'll find it if its the last damn thing I do.

She told me last night that she loves to go to sleep. I hadn't seen her in what must have been years. She told me that she selfishly waited for sleep, begging her to come in dreams. Wherever she is, she is there now, I can't keep beckoning her back. She cant, neither can I, but it seems as if we still want to. I never knew her, the dream-girl, I only knew what they said about her. She never knew her, the-other-girl, and there was no one to talk to about that. It never makes any sense. Always rambling on about some loss that I knew could take place. I choose this. I choose this and I would choose it again. Lay down beside me for awhile, "I never knew anyone could make me feel like this." Who did, sweetheart?

When there isn't much to say and nothing to be found in some foreign fermented substance, you read. Read about nature and stalking, about fecundity...

• the intellectual productivity of a creative imagination
• fertility: the state of being fertile; capable of producing offspring
• fruitfulness: the quality of something that causes or assists healthy growth

... I never knew what it meant until now. Thank you Annie Dillard. I know you never meant to use your name, but in some odd, self-centered sense, I am glad you did. You read about liberty, social and civil, you read about divinity and the cosmos' calling, you read about orientals and the -isms that follow, you read about God and politics and the misinformation, you read about Him and, you read about me. I read and I write and I smile at the smallest clandestine thought. It isnt meant to be understood, just felt through freedom. What freedom? I'll let you decide.

Decipher if you wish, but I promise no golden truth or treasured thought. A simple feeling perhaps. A small wave to be enjoyed. A innermost calling for the kingdom of another world, here now, not to come, but reigning here with you and with me. All are welcome.

Now its time. I am going to find that light switch and I am going to turn it on.