Remembering the drive home last night, there were moments when it was beautiful in a quiet way that held me, made me look back and forth between the window and the road. I expressed my gratitude to God for his gift.

The ones who are good and very difficult to win against often enter full of anger, blustery like a storm that takes everything down. Their skills are developed under fury's tutelage. There is a limit to what this fury can teach. Many masters have met this limit, climbing higher only when they have unsaddled what has brought them this far. This is an uncertain place, and many struggle here, unable to continue without their anger, unable to see a serenity without castration. What often guides them then is their witness to the serenely surgical beatings that they recieve from those more skilled than themselves.

I am not a horrible person, I just have a horrible imagination that eludes me at times. Dreams that I write to distract myself. It is a way of hiding. I woke up this morning very tired, so there was little to imagine. Driving home last night there was a heavy fog over the fields and there were fireflies in the tall grass and in the corn. It was very humid. I drove without the radio, and I didn't think about much. That's not true, I did think that I would trust myself more, and value the people I loved, and forget the people who could not see me in a new way.