• 30th August
    2014
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cowboyenigma:

CowboyEnigma:

A swing, who would have ever thought of that. No one but he would have built her a swing.  The old villa was under renovation, she was in charge of every detail.  She wanted it perfect.  He had mailed her the address and a plane ticket saying simply, “Do this for me.”  Her world changed that day, everything.  Picking up the ticket from the foyer table she look back once more on the past she willed to forget.  The door on pain now locked she boarded the taxi for LAX. 
Slid between the boards by the huge front door to the villa was an envelope, not a fancy envelope just a plain brown envelope.  Inside she found the two keys, one for the door, a smaller mysterious key and a note.
The note read:
Angel, inside you will find your new life.  Leave everything you brought and everything you left here on the front porch.  From this day forward everything will be new.  The task I have given you is large, your time will be consumed, your strength drained.  In the midst of this task and forever more I want you to have a place, a sacred place to commune with your spirit and renew.  A place only for you. A place where even I will never step, again.  Change anything you wish, make it your own, but leave the swing. This swing I built for you with my own hands, it is the place where you will rock and sway yourself back to the time of innocents, a time of no cares, just wonder, all around you wonders.  The little key is for this room, the room that holds your swing.  
She turned the key to the room with the hand carved doors, the room was empty and old, paint peeling, drape-less windows looking into the cool blue Mediterranean. There in the middle was a roughly hewn board hanging from four pieces of white hemp attached to aged timbers above.  No adornment, just a board, some rope, “simple like him,” she thought.  She knew, she Knew that very instant that nothing in this room would ever change, it was perfect, her antiquariusroom and his swing.~C


This is a favorite writing of enigmaticcowboy from his old blog cowboyenigma…  Nice to see it come back around!!

cowboyenigma:

CowboyEnigma:

A swing, who would have ever thought of that. No one but he would have built her a swing.  The old villa was under renovation, she was in charge of every detail.  She wanted it perfect.  He had mailed her the address and a plane ticket saying simply, “Do this for me.”  Her world changed that day, everything.  Picking up the ticket from the foyer table she look back once more on the past she willed to forget.  The door on pain now locked she boarded the taxi for LAX. 

Slid between the boards by the huge front door to the villa was an envelope, not a fancy envelope just a plain brown envelope.  Inside she found the two keys, one for the door, a smaller mysterious key and a note.

The note read:

Angel, inside you will find your new life.  Leave everything you brought and everything you left here on the front porch.  From this day forward everything will be new.  The task I have given you is large, your time will be consumed, your strength drained.  In the midst of this task and forever more I want you to have a place, a sacred place to commune with your spirit and renew.  A place only for you. A place where even I will never step, again.  Change anything you wish, make it your own, but leave the swing. This swing I built for you with my own hands, it is the place where you will rock and sway yourself back to the time of innocents, a time of no cares, just wonder, all around you wonders.  The little key is for this room, the room that holds your swing.  

She turned the key to the room with the hand carved doors, the room was empty and old, paint peeling, drape-less windows looking into the cool blue Mediterranean. There in the middle was a roughly hewn board hanging from four pieces of white hemp attached to aged timbers above.  No adornment, just a board, some rope, “simple like him,” she thought.  She knew, she Knew that very instant that nothing in this room would ever change, it was perfect, her antiquariusroom and his swing.~C

This is a favorite writing of enigmaticcowboy from his old blog cowboyenigma…  Nice to see it come back around!!

(via enigmaticcowboy)

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Love isn’t a state of perfect caring. It is an active noun like struggle. To love someone is to strive to accept that person exactly the way he or she is, right here and now.
Mr. Fred Rogers (via lazyyogi)

(via tanglejan)

(via mathsavvysiren)

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