(Rage, don’t you see?) Yes. But I am not rage. I am not that man. I am Love, or at least I’m supposed to be, and rage is attempting to destroy hope. That man is all of the loving and sorrowful spirit I ever took in or allowed in to shape who I became, desired, or not. Spirit is one singular thing. Spirit is the one exactness and, as far as my strengthened instinct is able to discern, Creation… After I imagine that where I am was heaven, I was already dancing with the spirits. (They are me, I am they.) It is one thing to say, “He did it”, it is quite another to say, “It was an accumulation of the spirits within him that truly did anything.”… Echo… *~* (Had you taken only the love from the spirits into the shell of you, you would have seen that the person you became, is not the person you were born to be…) I AM that singular person, but it is rather difficult dancing with all spirit, not all are as far along on the pathway as I, which flings me back to the man I had beco
(The Weaver's Song)