The Son of the last of a long line of thinkers. (delascabezas) wrote,
The Son of the last of a long line of thinkers.

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it is often so easy to only see the ocean from the bow of your own boat. what seems like a big wave from your helm is realy the wake of another ship passing, out beyond your peripheral vision. what seems like calm waters is actually the surging of a storm, about to take you from beneath, with swells that come up out of nowhere. what seem like impossibly angry skies drift away into moonlight starscape, and ideal winds. sometimes change brings providence, sometimes it brings shipwreck. i once told someone that sucess is not about the size of your mast, but the skill of your helmsman. stepping outside of myself for a bit last night, i realized that was not just lame fortune cookie advice, but something i really should be aware of more often myself.

last night's laughter and libation was thuroughly infused with change - good change, bad change - life chage. i have some unbelieveable friends who i have been throgh some amazing adventures with. through them i have met long-lost friends or freinds to be, perfect strangers, and enemies old and new. everyone puts themself at the center of the compass rose. really? we are all a part of everyone else's charts. i'm proud to be on as many as i am, even if i am only a blip of an archipelago in some. the first point on this whole roll of charts is calculated off a star not even in the sky anymore - i wished he was there last night, and, in some ways, felt like he was.

grimbil and twirlygurl, i'm a better person for knowing you, and through you, the unending streams of people that have been in and out of my life,and whose life i have been in and out of. if the course of your travels thusfar are any indication of future destiantions, then you are defintiely heading in the right direction. sweet water, bright tomorrows, and peace.

as i was walking home last night, it occured to me: the way i judge the success of a party is largely based on criteria set going to your gatherings. your pondhopping leaves a high bar to be met on the island you are departing from. i have a feeling that it will be a long time before anyone is able to glue together the same feelings of new and strange with familiarity and openess that i have always experienced at your festivities.

that is not going to stop me from trying.

i'm not saying goodbye, just see you later.


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