Anonymous Omnscience

There is no better place to feel a tad more liberating than in the commute. Most people would defer so, but I tell them otherwise. I keep telling my friends that years from now I will publish a novella of sorts about my (mis)adventures in the wonderful and often-times eccentric world of trains, buses, metros, and planes.

It's the freedom of being a stranger among strangers.

Anonymity is underrated. It's the omniscience of being an observer, a watcher, or, if i could stretch it a bit more, dare say a storyteller. I can invent the best and the worst about anyone.

So If You Love Me

So If You Love Me


So if you love me you will tolerant
Be of the nature that is with me sent.
I cannot be a different thing although
For your sake, to win you, I would grow
Wings and shed thorns,
Be weed, or newly born,
Anything so to please you,
But I'm myself and cannot ease you.

Come kindly to me then, forgiveness use,
Do not heap on my patent-wrongs abuse,
For your sake I'd be different but am not,
For your sake I'd have other needs forgot,
But I am one
And they are of the sum
Of me, and will not set me free
From my desires, which still follow me.

Oh choose, and choose me wholly, so we be
All of imperfectness, but summary.
Be sum, no fraction, though a fraction may
Marvelous wonder easily convey,
Yet it's but part
And may not be the heart,
The whole is all of us, if we use not
All strata, love's geology's forgot.

Ruth Herschberger

Countdown

Four days from now, it'll be October.

And in a few weeks, I'll be 26 and already I'm a basketcase.

The burden of years gone past are suddenly creeping up from behind to remind me that I am not getting any younger. Mistakes are chalked up as youthful follies and memories, like autumn leaves, swirl and dance about me.

October is such a melancholy month.