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I looked in his eyes. That was really all it took. 1
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I sit in my car and watch the children play, pushing each other in swings, running in the grass, picking up handfuls of leaves and tossing them at each other. They grin and laugh - and sunshine is reborn in their merriment. A
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They always said inspiration comes from the oddest of places. For me? It's the truest thing in the world.
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Silver droplets poured from heaven, pattering gently as they hit the ground, splitting into many little droplets that rose and fell back to
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Jack is a coyote who I'm in love with. A year ago, he was psychotic. Guess what got him out of his psychosis? Cannabis. That's right--t
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loneliness is a long way down1
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No, LordDeMarco, this is not real.
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To my dearly beloved, who I lost many years ago.
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But if there's one thing I've learned from all of this? Don't let stupid things kill your hope. No matter how important.
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Little tid bits of thoughts..
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A true story from my life.
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“The icon hangs on the chapel wall,” said Sister Isis, “the pictured Christ stares with His haunted eyes. The eyes follow wherever I stand, my conscience bites at His every glance. I confess to Him on my daily visits, my word
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Sister Scholastica passed the salt to the nun beside her on the refectory table. Anticipation of the needs of others; charity in action; th
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Tearing apart what use to be, watching the rain drops collide with the window, splashing, separating, being divided from what they use to be, falling from perfection, diving into destruction. I watch as they fall from heaven,
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Sister Scholastica entered the church; sat on one of the choir stalls gazing at the Crucified up above the altar. Incense lingered from mas
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I have no say in what is gonna change,1
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Run away to a better place.1
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I gave you a chance and you let me down, all I wanted was for you to be proud of me, but there was something in the way, I always did something to make you think otherwise.1
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Sister Scholastica waited in the cloister with the others nuns. The mass in church was soon to begin. She looked briefly into the cloister garth; caught a sight of the spring flowers in the flowerbeds; a robin was on the far
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Sister Scholastica left the refectory after lunch; made her way to the grounds for the twice-daily recreation period. She had been one of the twelve nuns to be chosen to have their feet washed by the abbess later that day. So
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The priest thumbed ash on Sister Scholastica’s forehead, his thumb firm like that of Francis whom she thought she loved once. Memento homo,
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Sister Scholastica sipped the wine from the glass on refectory table. Tongue tipped; felt the juice; remembered past and time; the taste rinsed down. Held the glass; peered at the distorted images; the sunlight from the high
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There are so many questions that one would like to ask the "Higher Power"1
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Define freedom, if you will...
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She has lost him since a very long time ago, but her love still burns deeply and she knows if there's a life after death then they will be
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Reflections of a long car journey. Just the thoughts in my mind as they came. Not particularly edited. 
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A place I've always known,1
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Still you mean everything to me,
And you're still so beautiful, my love...
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Some bullshit, just nice to vent my thoughts sometimes. So sorry for the bullshit.
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