The radio
Words from miles away, healing
The broken pieces that were my heart

Only to be shattered again
At the mere memory of your words
And I choke on the aftermath

You were my everything
You were my everything
You were my everything

I drown

SIREN

Rises from the ocean
Wet hair shining, black;
Skin pale, white;
Calling, beckoning,
"Come, come hither."

Stop the ears, close the eyes,
Deaden the heart
To her fatal song.
Set the sail; away, away.
Do not pass her by.

Oh wait—I don’t drink coffee. And come to think of it, it wasn’t a short break, either. Hopefully I’m not the only one who’s noticed that I’ve been gone from ApricotPie for a very long time now. I promise, it wasn’t intentional. So first, a brief update on my life, and then an explanation for my absence followed by some thoughts on the future.

I could tell by the awkward silences on the other end of the line
Punctuated by the whir of your fan and the sounds of your breathing
That this conversation wasn't where it should be
Your voice sounded dull, not because of the static, a grey tone between us

And at three fifty-four, your words, simple betrayal
Stabbing me more than when all the others said the same
Because you promised you'd never hurt me
And that promise was torn to pieces when you abandoned me

I have run the million miles you asked
And taken every beating with (relative) silence
And (relative) resilience.
But you know what? It's my turn.
And I want the world.
I want it all.
The pure morning joy
The inexplicable desire of summer
The love in another's eyes
The rush of diving into the great blue abyss
The courage the bliss the unmitigated brilliance of life.
That's mine, and you're giving it back.

I had one request.
"Just...take it all away." I looked up, eyes welling. "Please, I can't deal with this pain, this shame, this..." I choked. "I'd do anything to change it. Anything."
He nodded. "I have just the thing." He reached into his pocket, taking out a silver pellet, no bigger than the average eraser. It was smooth and cold, and it fit easily in the palm of my hand. I looked up, and the man was gone. Typical. Everyone vanishes without an explanation.

Philosophers, who love to see paradoxes in things that the rest of us take for granted, have long realized that in order for the world to make sense, there must be a connection between unity and mechanics. There has to be a way to explain why the laws and absolutes and concepts of the universe (unity) connect to the particulars of our everyday life (diversity).

One of the ancient Greek wise guys was a man named Euthyphro, who, in the abstruse manner of philosophers, is said to have once asked, “Is good good because God says it is, or does God say it is because it is good?” This has since been referred to as Euthyphro’s question.

Consider the first hypothetical: Good is good because God says it is. Here, God is like the parent who, when his child asks why she ought to do something, gives the response, “Because I said so.” It is good for the child to obey her parent; what the parent says constitutes moral goodness for the child.

The first five verses of John pack quite a punch. They show the eternality of Christ along with his power, authority, and victory as the light of the world that has not and cannot be overcome by the darkness. It’s a great introduction to a phenomenal book:

Laughter
Laughter tumbles,
Rumbles,
Trips tipsily off,
Springing like water,
Off my gay lips,
Turned up in a smile.
Head tilted,
Face reaching,
Beaming at the heavens,
In joyous giggles,
Reverberating in my chest,
Gripping at my abdomen.
Muscles tighten,
Laughing,
Breathy gasps for air,
Can't breathe,
Can't stop.
Eyes gleam brightly,
Shining with unshed tears,
Squinting,
Seeing the world in bright,
Beautiful multi-colors.