Colds

    

they mess with my head.  I can't seem to tell what year it is, or how old I am. its a season of life, much like fall. and each time it comes it reminds you vividly of all the times it's come before. only not so nicely as fall does. and I'm in bed. I don't like bed. it's too warm here. at least its fall. you can't keep me down for long anyway. I'll be up again before evening, because evening is too good to be sick through.

every moment that you rise

 

  

 

 

Can you believe I considered complaining? Ingratitude is surely one of the greatest sins. Am I at fault? Oh you better bet it. But don't, because you'd be taking dirty money. 

I want to take the whole world on a field trip. I want to show you the light that is shining. God is the greatest painter. He paints in light. He paints the world around us and we will see, if we look, the loveliest scenes. He paints the hearts within us and we will be, if we let Him, the loveliest beings. He can fill a human soul with light and love, and I have seen it shine. Again I come to my preoccupation with fireflies, my jealousy of light bulbs.  I want to be a light source. But I fail so frequently, I just sputter out. Well that's okay, I'll just have to try again. It took Edison several thousand tries. I guess it takes time to light up. You might say its a trial and error process.

ps. do you see venus? that made me so happy.

can't handle the day

..and that was the moment I realized, I should have stayed home today.

Give me a shank and I'll be out of here in no time.

What? When did this happen? Oh how the years sneak by, bringing with them CHANGE. Good yes, muchly. But also not so goodly. Really, when did I stop singing? When did I stop dancing? When did I stop brushing my teeth while standing on a chair in the kitchen? Is it the utter and complete lack of a certain cousinly type of the blonde persuasion? I think it a possible contributing factor. I certainly haven't had any midnight building climbs recently. But when was the last time I spewed [insert fizzy liquid here] as a result of laughing uncontrolably at a genious and strategically placed joke? One might point to the lack of a jolly green joke teller in my life, and I could say, yes, perhaps that's why. Why haven't I stayed up through the night listening to the retelling of amazing space travel and towel stories? And how is it that the world lacks 3 AM moose jokes washed down with chocolate milk, or possibly year round eggnog. Is it truly because a bearded companion remains shackled in another state, working for the government man and his government pig? I haven't been to a skate park in ages. No learning tricks from 9 year olds. No dreaming up new ways to graffitti up the place. No one on one pizza, rootbeer and park outings. Truly the absence of a tall swaggering gentleman may add to this problem. And I could attributte the sad lack of flavor to not having the people around to make it spicy.

But I don't think that's the case. It's written on the book, right on the cover. Staring me down in red and white. Why haven't I been trying to wistle? Why haven't I been up to see the sunrise? Why do my waffles fail? Because there is no love in them. There is no heart. And for a few years its been that way. Thank heavens for this summer. I am still afraid it will fall apart,  but if you hear Come on Eileen on the wind, take it as a good sign.