May 18, 2000: Doodles
The passing of what’s been let go takes from the mind what once kept it warm—

This is the part of writing I don’t understand…such quotes fall onto a page and I’m left wondering who put it there.

Who I am doesn’t surprise me nor does what I’ve become. The hand of my keeper governs each step taken—therefore, I’m his tool and that’s where faith is born.

I believe in all things—sometimes, I’m shocked at what I see but that doesn’t stop me from believing.

The healer of hope is self—the mender of peace is self. I pretend nothing, for the self I’ve become, as named by God…is my best friend.

I hear music…but can’t play it—so I create.