mark this moment

There are so few songs left to write, now. Let us say there are none.
And there are so few motions to go through. Let us not move.

Let us stand up and face the things we have accepted to be true.
For there are too few lies to cover it up.

We must have already known, long ago.

Every story has an ending.
It is never the one you expected it to be.

These things end when the symbols fail to move us.
When our traditions are dead in the ground before they can be born.
When our light is darkness on the hill that draws us down.

When the future is no longer the vision that you hold true.
When the road to go is all behind you.

White Winter

It's snowing in the metro area today, and yet the urbanites continue to cruise around in their FUVs down our one way sloped streets without a care in the world or even so much as a hint toward a second thought about the brilliantness of their decisions.

Congratulations, my fellow city-dwellers. Today you have distinguished yourselves as complete morons. Why not repeat that fun pinball game you all started last year. Don't let player one win. That would be a disgrace to your honor and your ... moronicness.

But please, whatever you do, don't continue your escapades on my crayon-colored street.

Please.
I like my front door.

But. On the upside:
The park will be beautiful.

So long as I get up there before everyone else who has already thought "you know, I bet the park will be beautiful" beats me to it.
Their hoofprints will ruin everything.
I hope they go drive their cars instead.


But no, I'm not that cruel-hearted.
Not really.

several days ago:

The past is a very interesting, very complicated, very elusive thing. There are times, when I think of it, that I get these little stabs of -- something. The question is always the same: what is it?

From time to time, I think it is nostalgia - a longing or remembering of the past in slightly (or drastically) better colors than it was ever painted it. Other times, I think that it is comprehension - but even beyond that, understanding. Stabs of intellect drawing even better conclusions from the confusion of the before.

Other times, I think it is probably just human nature.
Then again, what does that imply?

I think the first thing I had to say tonight was far more intellectual, far more applicable, far more intelligable.
Then again, I always do demean the sentemental, that emotional side of reality.

That's what harmony-seekers are for. I just want unity. Unity of the past and the present and the future. Unity, for all peoples and all times and all modes of behaviors. I desire, more than anything, the unification of our world with this universe that we find ourselves in.

No human understanding is good enough for that yet.
But, my hope is that we are still working on it.

And perhaps that is what those little stabs of reality are. Stabs of the heart telling the mind to buck up, be hopeful.
Unity can be attained if we are honest and searching in all things.