Longed for lives,little deaths,lasting hopes

Everyday I write out my longed for life,it involves above all the MA in Celtic studies with the university of Wales.I imagine myself discussing with my fiancé the subject of otherworld journeys,or welsh and my dissertation on Morrigu or Fand.I imagine updating my Facebook with shortbread recipes and love poems.I imagine sewing my own simple bohemian skirts with cotton and doing linocuts.I think how we'd have a vegetable garden of all sorts of things and big bags of lentils for hearty soups,damper baking in the oven.I think we'd have puppies instead of babies,two of them - Fianna and Hetty or whatever noble names we can come up with.We'd take them for evening walks.

I imagine myself typing away every night with a pot of tea - poetry,novels,journals on the penna or my macbook,writing being a great passion.Maybe we'd live in a small Nova Scotian town where we walk down to the cafes on Sunday's, or spend the day doing our family histories at home making burgers.Id work as an art jeweller with a little business 'Katie Wistow' making beautiful bangles set with moonstones and poetic verse and pretty little rings.Wed have a house full of books on the celts,the slavs and folklore,myth,history, everything.Self portraits I've painted all about.

Then after all this longing I resume my life where everything is broken and I find myself contemplating now and again going down the river like Virginia Woolf with stones in my pocket.What will happen to my dreams? will they find their way to some other life since everything got spoiled in this one I wonder.It doesn't matter what happens to me I never stop hoping for the life I longed for,even if it takesa thousand years to have it.I am astonished by myself,that I have written blog entries and kept sweet dreams despite everything that has happened this month,all the little and big deaths I went through and am still going through,the poor sleep I'm battling,the want of healing.The soul is so very resilient.