on going.

How shall I go in peace and without sorrow?
Nay, not without a wound in the spirit shall I
leave this city.
Long were the days of pain I have spent with-
in its walls, and long were the nights of alone-
ness; and who can depart from his pain and his
aloneness without regret?
Too many fragments of the spirit have I
scattered in these streets, and too many are the
children of my longing that walk naked among
these hills, and I cannot withdraw from them
without a burden and an ache.
It is not a garment I cast off this day but a
skin that I tear with my own hands.

Nor is it a thought I leave behind me, but
a heart made sweet with hunger and with
thirst.

-- Kahlil Gilbran, The Prophet


I'm not one to quote poetry, that's for sure. But I just picked up this book to reread and was struck with the first page.

About leaving. I do leaving so well! I do it often, sometimes I go out in hugs and well wishes, most times I disappear, sneak out discreetly. I also have a tendency to burn some bridges during my exit.

About leaving Burlington. Very soon. And I just want to sneak out right now. This place has made a mark on me. I didn't make a mark on it. It's not easy to leave a place you spent all your energy, on people, work... I suppose there's a lot of my emotion sort of washed onto all parts of the town. Maybe I left my mark that way.

But the town ain't going to remember me. That stuff wears away pretty quickly.

And when I leave things will wear away quickly too 'cause that's what I do.

But I still have two weeks. To exit graciously after some reconciliation. Don't know whether it will be a disappearing act or a grand curtain call.

My bets are on the disappearing! Poof!

something about where I am at.

I've been remarking that despite my job causing me all sorts of stress this summer, I'm in a good place. I'm fairly calm and focused. I'm not terribly lonely or anxious. I'm a little frustrated but who isn't?

Something must be working, right? If I can maintain this seeming peace... with so much uncertainty still out there. But it's like that post I saw on pouringdown today... the wonder is what makes things interesting.

I mentioned to Amy earlier that I want a home, a path, and a partner. But... I want the *right* home, the *right* path, and the *right* partner in crime. I'm not one to settle and I think that may be one aspect of my frustration. I've met such fantastic people as of late... they must be right in some way right?

And then I want things clear and crisp. No mystery, no intrigue. Sometimes I want things as straight and honest as they can be.

It's the balance, as usual. Somewhere between mystery and clarity. Somewhere between so perfect it's boring and... well... boring. Somewhere between all of this upset and anxiety and ugliness... I am peaceful and content... and stubborn and impetuous and wild and quiet and all of those things I was, am, and will be.

and I am a blogger be damned.