I've heard about this book "The Prophet" by Kahlil Gibran, almost every week for the last few weeks, my sister, reading entries on other's journals, and looking through the internet, I was first drawn to his artwork on a website. Well I guess it's high time I get the book and read, because sometimes you know your supposed to read something, but your just holding off, guess that's what I've been doing. I went on another one of my breathtaking runs last night which was beautiful as the other day. I'm starting to look forward to my runs each day, which is good, because when I first started back I was dreading them each day. Mike's been a little under the weather or not really feeling himself. Hope he gets to feeling better soon. I started thinking of another thing while I run, I havn't got me one of those new mini ipods yet, but I am, so lately with all the beauty surrounding me, I start singing, sometimes loud, sometimes to myself. It's funny, I'm not sure what comes over me, I've done this since I was young, I remember my Papa laughing at me because when I used to mow their grass on Saturdays, he'd always say he could hear me singing over the lawnmower, and that lawnmower was loud. The songs I know by heart are songs I learned in church when I was little, so here I am singing praises as I run, I feel good too, it may not sound that good to a passerby, but I think someone up there likes it. Sometimes when I draw, sometimes when I write, sometimes when I run, sometimes when I sing, this feeling comes over me, those goosebump feelings intermingled with something, gratitude I guess. When I'm sad sometimes I try and sing to myself in my head too, sometimes it cheers me up. I remember this song I sang as a special to my whole 4th, 5th, and 6th grade class, called "Make a Joyful Noise". I loved singing when I was young, I think I had a pretty good voice but when my voice changed, I didn't sound as good. I did better with groups, I did sing in college in the "Show Choir", and sang at the Crystal Pistol in Six Flags in Atlanta, Ga, where when I bent down on one knee to sing my part, my pants split, but that's another story and another entry.