we are all imperfect

2003-17-10, 5:48 p.m.

the most light headed perception is that we can not control our emotions. in all moments, a feeling shifts like the mountains of france in cezanne's eyes, from happy to frustrated; or any other possible landslide of the psyche for that matter. oh! how to catch the falling rocks that are tumbling into our soul, indents can make for poorly timed cracks.

the simple solution lies in the fact that those very rocks, thick with blues and greens, are paint; that is ALL. when, on the very rare occasion, i realize that, a smile forms. how do we stop those rocks? we build our own mountain and we paint it with our own colors. without questioning the logic, smiles could form in the darkest pool of a cave, or the exact center of mount Tharsis when it craves the light.

(for not wanting to hurt the ones closest to me, i have removed this segment of the diary. the proper sources have been informed and an investigation will take place as soon as the trees are cleaned of the yellow index cards signed "from jesus with love")