The Resurrection Diaries
Open Your Book of Secrets and Reap Your Desires

Come, let's scatter roses and pour wine in the glass;
we'll shatter heaven's roof and lay a new foundation.
If sorrow raises armies to shed the blood of lovers,
I'll join with the
Seed a Harvest of Love in the Dry, Bitter Fields of Lovelessness

Thirst is the desire for what I need.
∞ TD Jakes, Collision of ThirstIt's a mighty mean and a dreadful sorrow. It's crossed the evil line today.
∞ The Speed and the Sound of
Perilous Nostalgia

We don't rise the level of our expectations, we sink to the level of our training.
∞ Navy SEAL Standard quoted by Steven Kotler in The Habit of Ferocity
If working actively and
Remember: You Are a Wild & Joyous Occasion Waiting to Unfurl Its Wings

...from the dry dock of a mute old man
bring back the miracle of a tear,
from the delta of good intentions
bring back a seed that will change a lifeFrom the fields of
Venerable

Why are you here at the edge of this dark midnight?
And for whom do you search?
Another way we could ask: What is the treasure that you seek in this black reservoir?
Free Woman, Rooted in Belonging

Something is dying.
I read those words the other morning, and I immediately knew they were true. In their wake, I found myself standing on the edge of
The Neon Hermit is Gone
Funny thing about this masterpiece I have created.
At first, it was for me, though I fancied it was for you.
Then it was for you, for real.
And now it is for me again.
Don't misunderstand!
It isn't that
You Have to Do It Now: The Art of Liberating Your Destiny from the Ravages of Time

Tick Tock, Tick Tock, Tick Tock
That is the menacing sound of your belly clock telling you that time is passing you by. It has set itself up as the grand
Jailbreaking Ella: The Journey into Queendom

Little Cinder Girl, bound to the hearth:
I see you there tracing the contours of your dilapidated circumstances, running your index finger over the roughness of what you have been left to endure.
I know
Weaving Hope & Fabulous

I am the weaver.
On my loom opposites unite,
A tapestry of day and night.
In my hands?
Twilight.∞ Rebecka Eggers
I rise in the early morning. As the sun tips over the