

Lost in dreams,
I dare not, awaken
lest I forgot, the memory,
of true life, lived
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Q.
I want to, Create
and by creating, Live
and by living, Become
and by becoming, Find You
by finding you,
I, Find Myself
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Q. Lenise Lee
I walk thru the center of Creation
At the heart of Existence
And I live.
And I breathe.
(I breathe deeply).
And I am.
The spirit of the Universe surrounds me
Cradles me.
Nourishes me.
I am Loved.
I am Love.
All, and the All in All, is revealed.
I dwell within.
The Unfolding.
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~Q. Lenise Lee
I will think of him no more
Except
As a passing thought
A fading memory
Of what once was
What was never to be
*iamlenise*
It is my hope that ‘The Interviews’ will help to explain what is about to come next. Look away now, because the tale that has been twisting within my chest is not filled with bright blue skies and sweet dreams of colorful kisses. Even so, it is a story that I wish to tell. Perhaps then..maybe, only then?..will I be able to walk past this mire I find myself wandering through. I think I have shaken off the idea of moving the text of this serial dark romance to another blog. The purpose of this online writing journal is to discover who I am and to be at peace with all of the pieces that compose me, both light and dark. Along for the ride? Wonderful! If not..hugs and best wishes. Either way, it’s time for me to take this walk.
Keep my heart and mind open to change..and don’t fear the mistakes I may make along the way.
I think, like most people, my relentless search is for something much bigger than myself. The sensation is almost impossible to describe. Hm, like a memory that I just cannot pull together. I keep thinking there is something I am supposed to be doing, right now, at this one moment, instead of just sitting here watching this colorful monitor. At one point, I could draft an entire novella in a day. Now, I struggle to eek out a single one-thousand word chapter within that same time frame. What is it? What has changed within me so much that my writing has become so abrupt. I can see the stories, and most of them are already well-past finished in the spirals of my imagination, yet they refused to form whole and coherant bodies of work.
I’m intently waiting to reach that next level. Eyes open. Ears tuned. Lips trembling with silent prayers. I am finding the keys, but where is the door?
Does anyone else hear it? Feel it? Sense it? Movement..a pulse..a beat..a whisper..a thought..an urge to gather..Waiting..watching..listening..as the slow and purposeful wanderer approaches..masked by the noise of this world, hidden behind the blinders we wear, but always real and ever-present.
Kisses like cream. Taste sweeter than milky chocolate.