Nirvana

Not much chance, completely cut loose from purpose, he was a young man riding a bus through North Carolina on the way to somewhere and it began to snow and the bus stopped at a little café in the hills and the passengers entered. He sat at the counter with the others, he ordered and the food arrived. The meal was particularly good and the coffee. The waitress was unlike the women he had known. She was unaffected, there was a natural humour which came from her. The fry cook said crazy things. The dishwasher in back, laughed, a good clean pleasant laugh. The young man watched the snow through the windows. He wanted to stay in that café forever. The curious feeling swam through him that everything was beautiful there, that it would always stay beautiful there. Then the bus driver told the passengers that it was time to board. The young man thought, I'll just stay here, I'll just stay here. But then he rose and followed the others onto the bus. He found his seat and looked at the café through the bus window. Then the bus moved off, down a curve, downward, out of the hills. The young man looked straight forward. He heard the other passengers speaking of other things, or they were reading or trying to sleep. They had not noticed the magic. The young man put his head to one side, closed his eyes, pretended to sleep. There was nothing else to do. Just to listen to the sound of the engine, the sound of the tires in the snow.

Redemption

It wasn't just about sex.

It was about redemption.

The best sex usually is.

You don't just want to empty your glands; you want to fill your heart, or share part of it with someone else.

She was going to raise this dumb guy up to a higher level.

And sex and affection was only one rung.

-- Marlon Brando with Eva Marie Saint in "On the Waterfront"

Beginnings

I don't really care about happy endings.
Endings are the saddest part,
So just give me a happy middle,
And a very happy start.

Ghost Hunters

We pine for the things that might have been, 

the words that were never said, 

and the love that remains elusive.

Girl in Blue

 'When I know your soul, I will paint your eyes'

― Amedeo Modigliani

It will set you free for a price

People love simple and preposterous lies. 

They much prefer them to the truth. Truth is elusive. Difficult to discover. Infinitely nuanced. Hard to hold onto.

Each tiny bit of truth comes at a high price: A love lost. A marriage ruined. A business bankrupt. Money wasted. And a sorry soul burning on some ash pit in Hell. Nor does truth make you feel good. Like a magnifying mirror, it shows blemishes. You squirm in your seat when you see it. Often, you want to turn off the lights.

Not so with myth. It comes right over to you, fawns over you, airbrushes your photo, and botoxes your face. It flatters you with weak light and strong angles. It pretends you are the noble master and it is merely the humble slave… willing to do your bidding.

Perils of long distance calls

I

Serial Killers

 What doesn't kill you makes you something

Easier said than done

 A few things about ditching

Public domain

Pick your poison privately

Not bad.

 “Life can’t be all bad when for ten dollars you can buy all the Beethoven sonatas and listen to them for ten years."

                                                     -William F. Buckley Jr.,

Time is just a simple function of gravity

Plus a few ever changing constants

And a Happy New Year

 

Just be yourself

It' s very simple to be yourself,
but quite difficult to be simple.

                               

Summer is officially over

Leap in Void

 You never realize the holes they left until you fall into them.

Who’s moving on, who’s kidding who

Take a break

If it’s not broken, don’t fix it. 
Even if it is broken, leave it alone, you’ll probably make it worse.

All you need is love

Perhaps not love itself but the knowledge that love is there. 
Like new batteries in the flashlight in the emergency kit in the hall closet

Reservations

You still hold a special place in my heart. 
I keep this special place just for you, like a ‘Reserved’ sign on a quiet corner table in a restaurant.