Sometimes I feel so heavy hearted I can't seem to do anything but cry. Not a self pity sob, but a tender weeping that comes with the responsibility of knowing how bittersweet it is. Life I mean. No madman is chasing me around with a bomb strapped to them intent on murdering me and themselves, but I seem to have fallen through the cracks of caring. Stealthly, I travel north to Alaska where I'll study the frozen places and share the warm, native love. My spirit guide has shown me the path and now I'm challanged to walk it. Is it wrong to only want to love? Can it be bad to let go of politics and carefully plan an escape to places where the air is filled with ice crystals and people are past hurting each other? I made a vow to make peace tonight. In front of a clean, beautiful shrine with polished statues, sparkling vases and white roses, I prayed for the murdered and martyred. Equally, they'll share a place in heaven. From Pakistan to Prague, Peru to Pocatello, we're all in this together and tolerence is the only answer.
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