SO is Elsewhere kinda like Far Far Away and Forever? you know they must exist because they are written but really I haven't grasped the reality of them. Ok so i have been bored outta my goured the last 2 days. I knew what lay ahead on these seemingly important but not highly celebrated holidays at my house. We(5 or 6 of us) used to gather for cookouts and time together but now there are more of us togather. There are so many. One gets lost in it all. It is all just kinda like fog, One really just gets lost. For we and time are just vapor. Nothing is as it used to be. Nothing will ever be the same. That is both neither good nor bad. It just is. And yet it is hard for me to just let it be. Deep isn't it. I was told a bit ago I was like a deep well. I suppose it's time to explore what is really deep within. While uneasy about the thought of that but also intrigued, I try to forge ahead into the fog, the vapor that we just really are.
Ok so I am neither a poet nor a writer I feel. And yet I find I need to write. Perhaps the solitude and loneliness can get the better of me, however it does inspire me to sit and write, or rather ramble. I am not quite sure what one creative mind would call it. Please don't tell me to put this on a blog, I don't think I could stand the feedback. I don't even know if any of this makes sense.

I have felt abit like Alice falling down the rabbit hole. Not sure which way is up or down, in or out. I only know I have seen a few wild things and obscure things and noisy things, mad and insane things. I have seen things about myself I don't like, but good things about people I love. A little more like the Chesire Cat I feel. Wanting the things that bring a false sense of security but yet looking through the smoke knowing that's not what I really want. Knowing what and whom I want but not knowing how or where I can have them. I do see light through the smoke but what does that mean? More light or more smoke? Not sure if I like this going deep thing.
I know there are good things in there and I know there are bad things in there. I only hope I can find enough of the 2 things in there in equal measures so I can find my way out.

In traveling to the high places lately, going blindly where I have not seemingly gone before, it really had a familiar feel and scent to it. Like I was there before and yet knowing in the natural I was never there. Being at peace and at ease in the midst of the storm is refeshing. Entering into a newly established circle blindly is a little daunting but knowing deep within you have the tools to go is more reasurring than I thought. Finding out that the opportunity to travel to the high place was a possibilty was both daunting and exhilarating. While traveling in the high place there seems to be security and yet in an instant security is washed away and sorrow sets in. Even though sorrow was present, peace and understanding had settled in. Tranquil and quiet was the highplace and yet noise and sorrow lurks about. Upon leaving the high places sorrow and yet peace had been in the air along with mourning and tears. Beautiful tears of mourning and yet tears that had understanding. For still the high places hold mystery and wonder, questions unanswered but yet hope and love. Coming down through the high places I realize I do belong and yet I am still a stranger. But hope does peek through the fog as a light. How much fog and how much light, how much entry way, well I am really not sure. I only know it is a journey and there are loved ones along the way. Waiting and hoping in the fog to continue on the journey is where I am and will be.