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Finally a day where lunch was not provided for me. Oh well, I knew that wasn’t going to last. I work in a cave, the fluorescent lights are off but we have track lighting. Most of the people in the department seem to prefer having the fluorescent lights off. Can’t say that I blame them. Although I find them too bright on occasion, I know some people get headaches or they can hear them hum.
One week done on the new job. Hopefully I will be there several years. I can no longer think of just my needs in this.
Blissful melancholy, lullaby me to sleep. I sojourn where others dare not tread. I am the pathway between this mortal coil and the great unknown that lies beyond. I chose this direction; the Fates had no part in my journey. But maybe Muse will write a line or two and steer me along.
Much is yet unknown. To assume otherwise is folly. We are still children waiting to become old enough to sit with the adults. Whether we meet our makers in the life or the next, I dare not answer. Besides, I know you would prefer to be surprised.
Father, thank you for creating us in your image.
We walk in the shadow of your footsteps,
Hoping to one day match your stride.
We are quite young and only time will test our mettle.
We sit and watch and learn
All the while hoping you are pleased with our progress.
I know not what today will bring
But I will meet it as best I can.
We strive to exceed expectations.
When it is time for us to move on
We will walk together on our journey
Heading off into uncharted waters
Where only You have sailed before.
We walk a lonely road. People come and go. We are born and then we die. But what is death? Do we go to heaven? Hell? Is death just a transition to another plane of existence? Do we reincarnate? No one really knows, not even those who have had near-death experiences. They can offer glimpses into what lies beyond but until we reach that threshold ourselves and cross until the unknown, none of us can truly know.
Knowing does not matter, though. Our belief systems provide comfort for those seeking answers to unanswerable questions. Believing is enough to help through.
Today is Mardi Gras – Fat Tuesday. Some might claim this is the ultimate reason to party. Have a feast for tomorrow you will repent and give up that which feasts on you.
Mardi Gras has grown beyond the religious connotations and has become an excuse for drunken debauchery. Beads, hurricanes, and topless women abound these days! What does this say about our society? We are no longer pious – our Puritan founders would reign down the Almighty’s fury over such egregious displays.
Then again, we no longer live in such dark ages. Be responsible to ourselves, but let’s have fun, too!
Ash Wednesday, the day after Mardi Gras, the first day of Lent. I’m not Catholic so I confess I don’t get understand the iconography of the day. After all, what does an ashen cross on your forehead do other than show your have religious beliefs? Am I being cynical? Probably. But I’m curious what drives people to go through the motions of their faith without taking the message to heart. I try not to judge other but it is difficult not to. I judge people by their actions. If those actions seem false, what does it say about the person?
I know not where this path leads. I walked on others before, well-trodden with many to accompany on my way. I took solace in companionship yet sought solitude to quiet my thoughts. As I meandered ever onward my eyes spied an alcove. The cacophony of the masses led me to this shelter, from which multiple trails led out. I took one that paralleled the main road, the din of the ages rings faintly here. I intersect other roads but stay on my path. For you see I’ve found magic there and I want to know where my life will lead.
My wife has been ill for over a week and it is rather distressing. Not the fact that she is ill, I will tend to her as best I can. No, the concern is in the fact the illness lingers – she wakes up fine and then gets weary. It is probably the flu but there is no comfort there; only rest will cure this ailment.
It seems that sickness has become more insidious over the years. There is no magic cure. Diseases linger on like moss on trees. Are our advances creating “superbugs” that will one day do us in?
God willing, I will never work as a self-employed contractor again! The taxes kill you. Of course, that’s what estimated taxes are for, but honestly – it is extremely difficult to put aside money for taxes when you are living paycheck to paycheck. Those “extra” funds can be used to help you get ahead. Well, once again it’s come back to bite me in the ass. Maybe if I had found work earlier, things would be different. As it is, I am looking at another great financial abyss – one that I created. Will this nightmare ever end? I wish I knew….
It is a strange feeling to know that you are drowning. Survival is oftentimes so close yet the means to reach it are difficult. Sometimes you are caught on something in the muck, other times you are weighted down. Worse yet, you are held down. As you struggle for air, a cold inevitable thought creeps up – this is the end. All that you were, are, and hoped to be will be extinguished. It is not a comforting thought. That is why I will fight – fight to survive. Even if it means taking on greater challenges, I want to breathe again!
Behold calm waters
Quiet solitude of angst
Still waters run deep
Not sure what it really means, but I felt like whipping out a haiku. I’m sure people could interpret it to mean whatever they want it to. After all, mankind has distorted the words of past generations in order to quantify their own actions.
Fools abound aplenty
Wisdom, a precious jewel
A rose amongst thorns
Rhymes have existed throughout the ages to tell others how the writer feels, what he sees. Prose does it verbosely, but poetry has is refined to compact moments of insight.
Words distilled into beauty.
I feel old. There are times at my job when I find out the age of something and I think about all the fun and possibility that lies ahead of them.
Don’t get me wrong – I had plenty of fun while growing up. But I think I squandered too much of my young adult years and now that I am older I know that I can no longer expect to retain those wasted years. I am who I am, but that is sometimes a tough pill to swallow. I am a married man, and must learn to play my part.
“Farts are the condiment of life!”
I uttered that line and Rachel and I laughed so hard. As we are wont to do, we discuss a wide variety of subjects and for whatever reason this line popped into mind so I had to share it with my wife. Besides the fact that I am grateful to have a spouse that can appreciate the humor of something so inane, there seems to be a kernel of truth in that line.
After all, there have been numerous rhymes that hint to this fact. Just remember, you’re making music in a droll world.
Today is Valentine’s Day. I would prefer not to buy a card or give flowers to my wife, but I know she would be hurt if I do not. There is one tradition, however, that I will refuse to give up.
Ever since my college days I have worn black on Valentine’s Day. It may have started out as a protest to the commercialism of the day, but has since become my own way of honoring the day. There are some that wear red; some choose not to alter their attire. I wear black. And will continue to do so.
Three weeks of work have already gone by. I got paid today for the first two. It is nice to have an income again, but already my money has gone to pay bills. We are taught to save for the future, but what future is there when we live from month to month. I am taking steps in the right direction – pay my bills, pay off my debt – but the road is long and temptations abound. The harpies hawk their wares and tempt you into a downward spiraling road. It will be your own damn fault for taking that path.
Plans change from time to time – I do my best to accept that. It is when plans continually change that I grow tired and weary of sorting out why. Why make arrangements when things will be altered at the last minute? I long do I just roll with the punches rather than stand up and fight back? Is there even any point to it anymore? Or would I just be boxing shadows?
Frustration gnaws at me, grinds my insides to kibble. There are answers to my problems but none I care take. I do not want the easy way out.
Just when I think things are getting better the Darkness creeps in through hidden cracks and tries to contain my spirit. I am tired of fighting the same battles, even though I volunteered for the mission. Winning battles should bring me closer to the end of the war, yet that end seems to be moving further away. All that I have fought for is gone, lost, and dying. My family died eons ago. There is no support, no reserve units waiting to step in. I am the frontline; I just do not know how much longer I can go on.
It is February and I am already thinking of what to do my Halloween this year. Truth be told, I have been thinking of it since last Halloween. It has been two years since I decorated the house – this past year’s theme was Unhallowed Wedding. Numerous visitors mentioned my Funworld from a few years back. I’ve been thinking about sending out the clowns once again! Maybe a circus theme in general! Maybe masquerade…
Since Halloween is on a Friday night, I need to have a party this year. Beautiful people in beautiful costumes to celebrate All Hallows Eve. C’est magnifique!
I have yet to find the will the write the stories that dance in my head. I feel they are worth writing, yet I am blocked from putting pen to paper – well, byte to hard drive as it were – so I do not know if my foreign lands will ever see the light of day. It would be a shame to let fear and indecision block such creativity yet that is exactly what is happening. I strive to find a reason for not writing so I may overcome it and share with the world the deeds of heroes and heroines.
In a city that tends to get snow every year, it is truly amazing how crazy the drivers are. I can understand places that rarely get snow to freak out but not here. Even the editorial cartoonist accurately depicts how people panic at even the mere mention of snow. It has essentially become a self-fulfilling prophecy. Crazy nutters!
I mean, how difficult is it to keep your distance and not speed? Is it some idiot at the front of the line that jammed their brakes? I think most people need to take their driver’s exam again, but this is ridiculous!
The ice tried to claim me as I took the dog out. Although the steps were salted, I almost slid down a flight. This is not the first time I have been so maliciously attacked by ice. It once tried to send me over a cliff, but my quick thinking and sure footing saved me from that tragedy. That same storm delayed my return to college by several hours. Just last week, my foot went out from under me as I stomped snow off my shoe.
I do not think it will be the last attempt. Curse the slippery ice…
What we have here is a failure to communicate. We go about our lives thinking we know what the other person is saying, yet never opening our ears to let their words in. How dare we be so omniscient when the simplest gestures are so misunderstood! Open your hearts and minds to those you know – truly hear what is all around you. A conversation requires at least two people; we will have no soliloquies here, thank you very much. To assume is certain death, for the root of mistrust lies there. Be true to yourself and those you deal with.
Listen up people! Announce to renounce your foregone preconceptions. Don’t be erudite, don’t be contrite. Feel free to feel good and free feel the good feel. What goes up comes down, as Icarus showed us long ago. Monsters abound underground and all-around, your neighbor eats taboos. Be brave and save your mind from thoughts unknown; homegrown to a different beat. The wheat is separate from the chaff, yet I chafe at false notions. The motions of a drone are what we have become, yet some of us exist on a different plane. Maybe a train that takes us nowhere fast….
And the Oscar goes to….
Yes, boys and girls, Oscar night is here again! The writers have all gone back to work, just in time to ruin the rest of the TV season, but at least we’ll be able to watch the Academy Awards. Golden Globes….I scoff at thee! Who cares about the Hollywood foreign press? If you want glamour, talent, and a whole lot of schmoozing – not to mention fabulous dresses and to-die-for after parties – it’s Oscar night or nothing!
I just want to know how much the writers were paid so that the Academy Awards could be presented.
I never thought saying, “Apparently I was doing it wrong,” would cause such a fight! I know in the abstract that phrase could apply to a variety of situations. The specifics are not important. What is important is how the things we say and do affect our lives. Communication is vital to any sort of relationship. Without it, civilization would not be as it is. Why then do so many of us fail at effectively talking with our partners, friends, and strangers? Have we lost a bit of ourselves in all our advancements? Let us all learn to communicate better.
Maintaining a healthy relationship is hard. It is probably one of the most difficult things I have ever had to do. Granted it requires equal work from all parties in said relationship, but if someone is not pulling their weight or even faking it, it soon becomes apparent.
Oftentimes it feels easier to give up, to run away. Yet, how is that any sort of resolution? If the relationship has soured, then by all means try to find an amicable way to end it. Once you become a runner, it will overshadow everything you do until you decide to stop!
I have been getting the creative itch recently – writing, painting, sculpting. All of these outlets are finding ways to enter my consciousness and are subtly calling to me to resume. Measured against humanity I may not be anything special; I would like to think otherwise, but am I to judge? I do know that I am good at being creative. Whenever I get the calling is usually when I do my best work. So why is it so damn hard for me to sustain it? After awhile, the need dies away and it can be years before it resurfaces. Why?
Lately I have been feeling old. I am coming to the realization that I am no longer the young man I once was. I have new responsibilities in my life and I can no longer be carefree in my actions. Maybe this is the first true test of becoming an adult – the scary, great step between the youthful indiscretions of being a young adult and the mature reactions of an adult.
I find this realization to be rather daunting but I know that I can not be the person I once was. I have to discover who I am becoming.
This is a Leap Year. As you all should know, today is February 29th. Those people born on this date actually get to celebrate their birthdays on their actual birth date! Although they of course age at the same rate as everyone else, how interesting would it be if by some odd freak of nature they grew at a much slower rate, essentially taking them four years to age one. They would live four times as long as the rest of us. Then again, the terrible twos would last eight years. And what about high school? Sixteen years of hell!
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