What a swift kick in the unf! might feel like, or How I learned to stop worrying and just hate everything.
This is the last update for this blog, there will be no more so the suspense will end. I have moved on to bigger and better things, namely another blog. Shine on has lost my interest and I will abort it like the bastard child that it is. For my 3 readers, the link to my new blog is http://atrueview.blogspot.com/
The new blog will be updated idealy every 3 days. However, in reality, probably once a week.
So long.
I took a moment from my day
Wrapped it up in things you say
Mailed it off to your address
You’ll get it pretty soon unless
The packaging begins to break
And all the points I tried to make
Are tossed with thoughts into a bin
Time leaks out my life leaks in
You won’t find moments in a box
And someone else will set your clocks
I took a moment from my day
Wrapped it up in things you say
And mailed it off to you
I've been wading in the velvet sea.
What is it about hitting the perfect note on an intrument, or writing the perfect sentence that gives someone that feeling? If you've ever done it you know what feeling I am talking about. It is something that is hard to explain to someone who hasn't. It's like some strange beast that paces the cage inside of us finally being let go to run through the streets, yowling at all those poor, sleeping people.
Writers are filled simultaneously with elation and dread. We dread the coming of the day and whatever it may bring in its terrible vengeance. Each day is a new horror waiting to be unveiled. Something will come and snatch us, by god. Something will take us in its icy grips and drag us into the forest, kicking and screaming until our voices are nothing more than a sick memory.
That is how we view life. It is scary and unpredictable and unescapable. The writing comes through us to fend off the demon, to beat the devil. We write to save our lives and nothing more.
Hunter S Thompson, one of the best writers of our century, decided to leave. No phone call, no email, not even a fax of gibberish to let us know, just gone. My hat goes off to you good sir, wherever you may be.
"All I can say now is Thanks, once again. You boys are OK when you get the right music to dance to, and I was proud and goddamn happy for the chance to dance with you." HST
Apparently, it is a necessary to divide everything up into groups. We have black and white, rich and poor, tree-hugging hippies and hardcore conservatives, blue and red states, cheeseburger and hamburger . . .ok, that one may be pushing it. Why is it that we feel the need to do this? To label everything? What ever happened to just being, to doing what you liked without having a label put on you? What ever happened to the Human Race being the only Race?
This world is getting dumber, yet more opinionated.
So I just went through surgery to have my tonsils, adenoids, and nasal polyps removed. This is not fun. The last six days of recovery have so far been horrific. Pain is something that I am good with, but this is just unbelievable. Even with the many, many Vicodin I am still in constant, 24 hour pain. All I have to say is that this better have been worth it in the long run. All I can manage to eat and drink is liquid food like soup and mashed potatoes and hot tea. One the bright side, though, I have lost 6 pounds.
There was only really one person that I truly would have wanted to be with forever. That person is gone now, like all the rest, off on some new life somewhere, doing whatever it is lost loves do. Probably off complaining about the horrible movies that are out, probably listening to Etta James or some past master, probably doing all those things that annoyed me when I was with her but that I miss now.
Hindsight is an incredibly painful thing. I'm not one to hold onto the past but it's hard to let go when you know you will never have the same feelings again. 4 and half years pass and still no one comes close.
