A Mushy Ode to Vodka

Oh, sweet Vodka liquid of dreams, weaver of spells, seduce me In your warm embrace

Grant me passage to wonderful Elysium, to time and space

Let me forget my sorrow and keep it away till the morrow

Oh, sweet Vodka, take me away, and let me in the winds of pleasure sway.

and sway, and sway, sway, sway, ssssway..... BARF.

Love Is

"Love is a temporary madness, it erupts like a volcano and then
subsides and when it subsides you have to make a decision. You
have to work out whether your roots have so entwined together
that it is inconceivable that you should ever part, because this is
what love is. Love is not the breathlessness, it is not excitement, it
is not the promise of eternal passion, and it is not the desire to mate
every minute or every second of the day. That is just being "in
love" which any fool can do…Love itself is what's left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident."

~ Louis De Bernieres ~

Coldplay

I always thought the band was overrated.

.... Never thought I would, but I have. I have fallen in love with Coldplay.

"Speed of Sound" . . . beautiful in its simplicity - I have a deep affection for it. Stimulates the creative and colorful parts of my mind that no one understands. I can only describe them but "if you could see them you would understand."

Strong Medicine

"The soul is healed by being with children”

-Fyodor Dostoyevsky

Passion

"Love is when you take away the feeling, the passion, the romance and you find out you still care for that person."

Fire that burns too brightly, too soon, too intensely - quickly burns away and dies; leaving nothing but charred waste behind. I find that I would rather have a slow burning, steady fire that will last for years and years.

To those who settle for less than mediocre banality for the sake of avoiding loneliness. That's not passion for love. That's being passionately afraid - also known as sad, often pathetic.

Passion and lust often go hand in hand - that so called "love" usually mingles in dark corners, ebbing away as the orgasm subsides. A foamy waste.

But true love - now that's a flame that burns in my heart day in and day out. THAT is my passion.

Don't Go.

"Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of witherings, of tarnishings."

-Anais Nin

Raindrops

I never remembered the last kiss ... because I never thought it'd be the last one.

ideas

Where do they come from? Where do they go? Sometimes my life seems like one massive idea mobbing through a nebulous cloud of possibilities.

I let them get away from me, especially the really beautiful ones - feeling as if I hold on to them, I'll taint them. I like to think that they find their way to a meaningful destiny; like an ordinary, red, bouncy ball that gets away and find its way through a dirty gutter, to the hands of a child and sets their eyes a glow. She treasures it, cuddles it, uses it in the most creative ways. Where as I would let it stagnate and morph within the procrastinating pit of my mind. Until it becomes nothing and I become a dissapointment.

The Story

Found on I-80: Orion

Journal Entry: September 10th 2006

"You took me by surprise when I found you on I-80. Followed me through the night. I must have looked at you a few dozen times.

It Cannot.

My family is back from Honduras. My emotions spanned the spectrum.
Seth has not been able to feel 3 fingers on one of his hands for the last few days. He feels it's as the doctors predicted; that the cancer in his ribs is spreading to his spine. He told me tonight, after we had all finished watching the digital photos of their trip - that he needed to talk to me privately - I told him to call me. I'm dreading the call.

A few months ago my mother mentioned something about him asking if I could make a video of him for his family. He never brought it up again. I think this is what's coming and if it is, how do I gather the strength to watch him, film him, hear him say goodbye? I just don't know if I'm ready for that. In fact, I know I'm not.

I often wonder what he feels. Besides the obvious, steady pain he sometimes appears to be in I wonder if he slowly feels himself being detached inside - detached from life. I wonder if he feels himself slipping further from every breath, little by little - like a slow torture that consumes you from the inside out. I wonder if at times, he ponders every breath and feels a change with each passing one. The world has to look so different - how do you process information? Is everything more vivid? slower? more precious? The laugh of your son, daughter - wife. Does it become more treasured because you hope you'll always remember it, not matter what the physical body does? How many of his thoughts begin with "I wonder if this is the last....."

I treasure every moment. Every single moment. It's so exhausting.

Superman

"He's Superman, he's an action figure and Johnny owns him."

-Drew

New

New Blog. New Home.

New Picture: Arizona Road Trip Pit Stop.

more to come.