I miss you
There is no sugar footed hobbit of ambiguity with the Riddler's staff prancing around a bush.
I know what I feel.
It is the intersection where the accident happened.
That moment where lonliness swerved, narrowly missed frustration, and collided with a busful of affection.
Through my shocked fingers I peer at the wreckage. Lead legs and a mind on fire claims the man in the mirror shard.
For in a growing archive of instants, all that I want is in you. And you are not here.
You are not the now that the victim is silently screaming for.
You are the mindscape the paramedics are imploring the victim to visit. A reason to hold on. A reason to keep fighting.

(Maybe the prose knows?)

Wilted widows' fingers linger on the cool glass, as the rain patter dances
The dust not content to inhabit the shelf back, but seeps into the longing glances
It felt that night, like frostbite.
The malicious mosquitos that present a pain, utterly intimate, and hence, totally alone
Pacing tracks in the monotonous wintersleep for a home better known
The throne of the warmth source lines the backpack straps
Do not, can not, will not collapse
In it's absence it is the only thing present
Business suited surety surrounded by clownish irreverance
These dry eyes itch as the chest wound bleeds
I never got what I asked for
Only fulfilled needs.
I miss you

Here I am.
I take this step to gleam an understanding on this ever intimate omnipotent existance.
With advice from a blessed mentor, I endeavour to letter something clever.
Partake in the bounty of lessons my blessings have impressed in me.
They are footsteps on the yellow brick road fate has laid gracefully.
And with words as the currency, currently, I submit to your eyes faithfully.

Let's go...

Flight 881 from Toronto completed it's labour at YOW with such grace, that the plane patrons clapped. The descent was a whisper upon a kiss. A red-eyed haze was terminal, as I continued my path towards reunification. My mother and brother awaited me at the lobby and then it began. Such a unique feeling embodies this National Capital for me. To set the scene correctly, allow me to pull the rubber band back, as if only to bring the proper weight to the propulsion. I have been enjoying quite a liquid existance as of late (term pregnancy for that matter :p). I left Ottawa in November 07 for BC. I submitted myself to the Hands of the All Create. For it is when one is away from thier comfort zone, that life gains a new intimacy. I find myself most creative when life gains a hand to mouth type nowness, and food always tastes better off your fingers. And so I floated: from a brother in Vancouver, discovering a blessed city in the process; to Victoria and a home I was already enamoured with; to Prince George, a salty release from my glorious labour; and then, the return to this Zero Point called O-dub. Without robbing you of all my coffee time conversation, it has been quite a tantalizing and enlightening experience. So in returning our gaze to the present moment, I find myself back to the future. These love lenses that envelop my eyes are tuned to the Now. To moments where my life is very turtlesquely tied to my back and decisions have a very short term reach. But herein lies my juxtaposition.

How does one live in the now, when every street has ten memories layered on top of it?

This is the fount that flows my 'reverse culture shock.'
It is balls.

But in recognizing that a new piece of chaos has been added to the environment (is the environment), the system that is me, must grow to encompass it. And as I do the internal spelunk for answers, the song remains the same. It is the people. Wait let us not forget the reason for the plane ticket. It is my people. These are not only fellow indigo children seeking thier way to a better tommorow, these are my family members. My teammates in this glowing struggle. They have bled in the same battles, sweat in the same circles, and speak the very language of my heartbeat. This is the privelege. My priority here is to fill up my love bars and keep a clear connection for the time when I venture back into the darkness of my own ignorance. Although Ottawa is a very bland cityscape, it is an edenesque overabundance of old growth love. I am a part the garden here. I know where the carrots are. And in only two days on the street, I am only beginning to see how this cornucopia has grown (consciousness included). And {tangent time :)} if I am to ask entry into such obviously blessed circles, I am owe it to the Most High to contribute in the best way possible. So with that being said, I make this promise:

I am an Indigo Child of Divine ancestry.
I am Johnathan Leon Question Public III esq.
I am a communication savant.
I will use these tools I have sharpened to present my love to others in a barefoot and consequential fashion.
Acting is better then thinking.
When I spit it will be tasmanian devil sleepless in Las Vegas surrounded by hookers, blow and neon flashing sirens on fire good.
I will submit every action to the scrutiny of my own ideals, ethics and love. Thereby submitting them to the Most High.
I will recognize the value of the present moment and indulge within fully.
I will be the gift to everyone I meet that they are to me.
I am

God Bless