Okay…
Written by freyaborn on June 19, 2008 – 9:55 am -So my first blog isn’t about sex. It isn’t about being bi(which i so love). Or even beauty, well not human at least. I’m sitting here at work(playing hooky) and looking out my window. I see fog. Not really very dense, not really even foggy. It’s more like looking out at a living thing, swirling, pulsing, moving to everything around and in it. The wind, the cars, the sun, all push, pull, and glare at the existence of this fog. And yet it persists, stubbornly sticking around to be pushed, pulled, and burned. And that’s kinda what makes it so beautiful. The wind, cars, and sun are what’s making this fog different, but none of these things are really noticed until one sees their affect on the fog. For a moment, the fog seems to have given up, but it’s back, and thicker than ever. It’s just there, doing it’s thing, tolerating the treatment it receives and swallowing it up and taking into itself and allowing said treatment to show it’s true beauty to the world. Or at least to those that are looking. I’ve seen fog in many different forms. As a kid, i’d walk a mile to the bus stop down a mostly gravel road in the early morning. During most of the winter there was fog, dense fog, thin wisps, the kind that moves around you as you walk, the kind that simply parts to allow you passage. After high school I spent some time in Santa Cruz. driving home to the Bonnie Doons(past the outskirts of town) i would drive down this most enjoyable road, all curves and little hills. This road ran from the beach(sea level, of course) to the foothills of some small mountains and would as such go through a cloud layer at night when the clouds had settled down on top of the mountains to rest for the night. Driving home with naught but headlights for illumination, I would pass though clouds. White, fluffy, looks kinda like cotton candy, clouds. It was an experience. The beach had it’s own fog. More like a ceiling or a blanket for the cove I drove by every night. It would touch the beach with just a little fog, not enough to even notice unless you had a flashlight, but gradually gathering the deeper you went with your tiny pinpoint of light. But this morning I saw something new that nature hiding in her skirts. This persistant, wonderfully liquid, free floating, body of water in the air. It just fascinates me, nature. I’m pretty much looking at the way water behaves in the ocean in the air outside my window. Eventually the sun will think it’s won and the fog will go back to Mother’s skirts, giggling in it’s knowledge that just as the sun will leave and come back, so will it, unfailingly enjoying it’s moments reeking havoc on the little humans that think they have an affect. Well there you have it: my very first ramblings in the hotel. Sorry if you expected more, but I wanted to write and here is where I felt safe to write such things. Next time I’ll write about sex. *__* ‘ ‘
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