09.28.07
Posted in Life Betwixt Book Covers at 10:57 pm by Miracle ♪♫
This book is indeed of a chthonic temperament…and I would not hastily refer it to anyone despite its literary brilliance and intensity. It is the only bildungsroman or künstlerroman
of its sort that I’ve ever burrowed my nose into. It causes a person to examine personal cultivation
of different aspects and stages in life. Its verities disturb me but make me embrace them at the same time. The spiritual side of the book I shall not
concede to… after all, the author was simply revealing his unfeigned
views.
“That is the way
leaves fall around a tree in autumn, a tree unaware of the rain running down
its sides, of the sun, or the frost, and of life gradually retreating
inward. The tree does not die, it
waits.”
I have to thank Franz once again for giving me this opus,
but I’ll have to ask him “why?” =)
Permalink
09.23.07
Posted in 2007 Mosaic at 12:34 am by Miracle ♪♫
I cannot seem to neglect a remark one friend made last
Friday night. It’s not that I’m negatively
plagued about it. I simply can’t rid it
off my mind. We were talking regarding relationships and I chanced upon quoting one
of my blog entries about how we are powerless to decide on who we fall
in love with. Ahia Boyet interjected and said that whatever
I stated about relationships would be irrelevant since I had no
experience. He said it in good humor and
I know he was partly kidding - although he barely kids at all. Of course, I did not counter his remark since
it was technically true. So the spinster
just smiled.
Then I thought about the different amusing ways people
perceive maidenhood. One common
misunderstanding when you are single is the judgment that you are either
incompetent of loving or being loved. It
could even get worse when people begin to doubt your gender. Yet, you cannot blame them, and the best
thing the misunderstood can do is to understand.
After the instant of Ahia Boyet’s comment, what was I to do? Claim that I knew all about love when I
don’t? Tell everyone in that room that actually I have fallen in love? Say the man’s name out loud? Prove that I really did not choose to fall in
love with him and from the moment I did I’ve been trying to choose not to?
Singleness can only be negative if one is not content… but
if we are, only we can experience the profound acceptance and unselfish realization
that the pure and simple act of being in love with that particular man is enough.
In fact, in this manner, I learn to love more because I hardly
ever think of what I should receive in return.
The bottom line is… single people do love…
but usually, only in
silence…
Permalink
09.22.07
Posted in 2007 Mosaic at 1:38 am by Miracle ♪♫
The world today is comprised of acronyms and short-cuts of
all sorts for speed’s sake, and apparently we are living in an “accelerated” planet.
How it saddens me to perceive that a person’s value is
merely measured in CK’s or BMW’s. Now,
how did consonants become so costly? Dear me, don’t they know it’s not
expensive enough to be the worth of one’s life? Or should I say, lyf?
We have SMS and IM’s for speedy communication in place of sluggish
pencrafted letters…and honestly, I miss those. I personally prefer to unravel my writer’s
emotion through the rashness or carefulness of his pen strokes, than through
emoticons, and I would rather see laughter scribbled, than LOL. Nevertheless,
all of these may be tolerable… but it peeves me to see love truncated. Do not luv
me, I’ll feel abridged.
Everyone seems to be so concerned about speed and initialism.
“I want an LV bag - ASAP!” “Have you heard about the fastest aeroplane, the fastest car, the
fastest this, the fastest that?” Lanes are fast, even food is fast!
…and they still have to ask why relationships are fleeting nowadays…
or why life is short…
Permalink
09.20.07
Posted in Uncategorized at 10:04 pm by Miracle ♪♫
The wind puffed my bedroom drapes into a petticoat… and they danced gracefully. A kind of waltz out of time… a waltz that even Strauss or Chopin would have been baffled with… perhaps a choreography from prehistoric earth… long before humans even learned to walk with elegance. The first sensual waltz of the flowers… the ancient prance at the zephyr ball that old weeping willows reminisce… the primordial dance that beautiful cypress hips swayed to… and today I witness it… dancing for time… dancing for life… dancing for hours… an ancient Casanova of nature, fawning over my drapes…
Permalink
09.17.07
Posted in 2007 Mosaic at 2:58 am by Miracle ♪♫
Dipolog… ohh… this bisaya-speaking city I love. The
place where “descendant” signifies a person accused of a crime, and
where the acquitted mourns because he thinks being acquitted means
going to jail. Case is missed!
Wait. Dipolog’s remarkable vocabulary is not fenced solely within the courtroom walls. Try the pizzeria and be queried whether you’d like your crust “tech or ten.” Hi-tech pizza anyone?
By the way, just a tip, don’t be surprised if the waiter asks you whether you want it “today or later.”
I
don’t intend to make fun of the Bible, but here in Dipolog, the book of
Philipians was once confused with Fallopians…and while Revelations are
people from Revelatia, among the Jews are the Genitals - not the
Gentiles. Ack! Talk about immaculate deception!
Hey, hey… Dipolognons don’t deserve all the credit. I can also talk about my second favorite bisaya-speaking city. Cebu! It’s where I overheard two make-up artists bickering on one of PPP’s concerts. Unable to resolve their argument, one approached me with a confident stride and asked, “ikaw akong pangutan-on dai kay murag bright jud ka. Unsa man jud ang sakto beh, burf or barp (which is correct, burf or barp)?” Man, I know someone who would have vomited and belched at the same time upon hearing that question.
Ahh… but there is nothing quite as rewarding as the applause of dear Cebuanos and Dipolognons after the finale of a performance. Cebu shall provide you with a warm “standing ovulation in the sperm of the moment,” and Dipolog will cheer “Braboo… Braboo…”
Err… shall we bow?
P.S. True tech and ten, wrong-gramming or not, tell debt do us part, I do love Dipolognons and Cebuanos very much.
Permalink
09.16.07
Posted in Uncategorized at 12:59 am by Miracle ♪♫
On the coffee table rests a quaint chess set. Stained Stradivarius-red by the craftsman, the wooden box has a glass top with alternating dark and light squares to serve as the battlefield. A flick of the oriental brass lock would reveal the two royal couples with their officers and sentinels – all of them in their glassy state against a bed of black velvet… and fostered alongside the thirty-two, is the secret.
This curio will ostensibly thrive as a family heirloom. But people will never know that I did not purchase this objet d’art for that intention. They will be ignorant of the truth that I acquired it for you. Yet, the farcical verity is that you do not know, too.
I bought it years ago. To perpetuate the smiles we exchanged during a game that ended in a draw. To hold dear the pleasurable memory of scrutinizing every strand of hair on that intelligent head, your face, and your youthful smile as you
pondered on your moves. To memorialize the day I wore pink when my
wardrobe consisted mostly of black. To remember that like the pieces, we each need a higher power to guide us in every move we make. To commemorate the eternal draw – that despite our differences and inadequacies we are equals.
Nevertheless, cowardice held me back. Circumstances convinced me it was improper to give it to you… and you went away… unknowing…
…and it still sits there… nothing but a piece of nostalgia. So the kings, the queens, bishops, knights, towers, and pawns, will whisper the royal secret
among themselves everytime one crosses the other’s path along the checkered etched glass… but they will never tell anyone… not even you.
Permalink
09.15.07
Posted in Uncategorized at 5:23 am by Miracle ♪♫
I was a nonentity. A nonbeing. Nonexistent.
Nothing…
…and you are His gift to me.
The miracle. A genesis. My gnosis.
The detonated primeval atom
hurling consciousness in all directions
of my abyss.
In the beginning, there is Love…
and Love is my universe.
It only begins. It has no end.
My universe transcends time.
It is Love.
Light from the Heart Nebula
Credit & Copyright: Matt Russell
The large emission nebula dubbed IC 1805 looks, in whole, like a human heart. The nebula glows brightly in red light emitted by its most prominent element: hydrogen. The red glow and the larger shape are all created by a small group of stars near the nebula’s center. The Heart Nebula is located about 7,500 light years away toward the constellation of Cassiopeia.
Permalink
09.11.07
Posted in Uncategorized at 6:49 pm by Miracle ♪♫
You are not a photograph,
Not an infantile idea of eternal youth.
You will grow old, too.
You are not a photograph.
I cannot show you off,
Despite the times I’m tempted to.
You are not a photograph.
You have ideas.
Rare, yet symbiotic with mine.
You are not a photograph,
And I cannot add a caption.
No, not even a line.
You are not a photograph.
You cannot be kept under my pillow,
Lest you suffocate.
You are not a photograph.
You are most real,
And a lonely wall is not your fate.
You are not a photograph,
Obliged to forever don a smile.
You are allowed to cry.
You are not a photograph.
You move and breathe.
On you I can’t constantly keep an eye.
You are not a photograph.
Not an object,
that you should merely be an icon of reassurance.
You are not a photograph.
Although at flimsy intervals I wish you were
So I could hold you in a glance.
But you are not a photograph
Meant to be possessed,
Or be displayed.
You are not a photograph,
You are not a photograph,
And you will nevermore fade…
Permalink
09.10.07
Posted in Uncategorized at 7:39 pm by Miracle ♪♫
"Not a Day Without a Line"
The Daily Pliny
will be an attempt to discipline my writing
habits the Older Pliny way.
As you may have surmised, the title is
a nutty variant of The Daily Planet.
Until I reach another inevitable writing fermata,
I shall do my best to update this post everyday.
———————————————————————-
September 14, 2007
General cleaning. Achoo!
———————————————————————-
September 13, 2007
One of today’s happiness…
was chatting with Franz. =)
———————————————————————-
September 12, 2007
Not a Photograph
You are not a photograph,
Not an infantile idea of eternal youth.
You will grow old, too.
You are not a photograph.
I cannot show you off,
Despite the times I’m tempted to.
You are not a photograph.
You have ideas.
Rare, yet symbiotic with mine.
You are not a photograph,
And I cannot add a caption.
No, not even a line.
You are not a photograph.
You cannot be kept under my pillow,
Lest you suffocate.
You are not a photograph.
You are most real,
And a lonely wall is not your fate.
You are not a photograph,
Obliged to forever don a smile.
You are allowed to cry.
You are not a photograph.
You move and breathe.
On you I can’t constantly keep an eye.
You are not a photograph.
Not an object,
that you should merely be an icon of reassurance.
You are not a photograph.
Although at flimsy intervals I wish you were
So I could hold you in a glance.
But you are not a photograph
Meant to be possessed,
Or be displayed.
You are not a photograph,
You are not a photograph,
And you will nevermore fade…
Click Here to comment on
Not a Photograph
———————————————————————-
September 11, 2007
Schizophrenia
Hear ye, hear ye! I
have discovered another genesis of schizophrenia or MPD! It is called “boyfriend.” Now, this may not be pertinent to everyone,
but I have observed that many girls fashion a different personality around
their boyfriends - a very deviating personality from the one they were naturally
born with. Observe. Take a look around you.
———————————————————————-
September 10, 2007
Bach with the Guitar
Transposing Bach after cleaning the bathroom.
Hehe I am living my life. Are you living yours? =P
———————————–
Playhouse
Remember how we used to pile pillows, hang blankets over our
heads, or dwell under any four-post furniture for hours just to imagine and create
playhouses? Yes, there was a time in our
lives when everyone was so eager about order and “chores.” I even recall arguments over who gets to cook
or who gets to sweep and scrub the floor, who gets to be the “mama” or who gets
to do the groceries.
Then something inevitable happens… we grow up… and as adults,
we suddenly lose that eagerness towards household tasks… and I’m wondering why…
———————————————————————-
September 9, 2007
Loving Demian
"Indeed the time seems even longer, so much has happened meanwhile…
far removed from each other in space, so far that at times no
communication was possible, yet always together, always in each other’s
thoughts. Our paths in general take clearly separate courses through
the land of spirit, at a formal distance one from the other. And yet in
some sense the course is the same, in some sense we are indeed fellow
pilgrims…"
Thomas Mann’s introduction to Herman Hesse’s Demian. Loving Demian.
Loving Hesse. Loving the person who gave me the book. Missing him just
as much.
———————————–
Happy Birthday, Tolstoy!
Count Lev Nikolaevich Tolstoy
(Leo Tolstoy 1828-1910)
One of MY Russians.
“A writer is dear and necessary for us only in the measure of which he reveals to us the inner workings of his very soul.”
“Art is not a handicraft, it is the transmission of feeling the artist has experienced.”
“Woman, you see, is an object of such a kind that study it as much as you will, it is always quite new.”
“Don’t seek God in temples. He is close to you. He is
within you. Only you should surrender to Him and you will rise above
happiness and unhappiness.”
“If you want to be happy, be.”
“All, everything that I understand, I understand only because I love.”
———————————————————————-
September 8, 2007
Aroma Therapy
“Humota nimu ma’am uy,”
a voice said from behind.
I turned around ready to reduce whoever it was to kebabs
with a skewing stare.
“Gwapa pa
jud,” he added,
and went away with an adoring smile and a hint of a bow.
Not ogling, nor mocking. No sign of disrespect.
It was a simple smile of admiration…and
this time I wasn’t annoyed. In fact, I
even relished his remarks because I found them devoid of vile
intentions. It’s normal for a man to pay attention to any woman on the
street –
but rarely in such a decent way.
If only everyone could look at strangers on the street that way and utter
a line of sincere admiration for each other’s qualities… the world would be a
less hostile place. Yet, how is that possible when most of us are incapable of appreciating even our own acquaintances?
———————————————————————-
September 7, 2007
Lizard Tails & Human Hearts
Before anything else, let me declare that I am not about to
divulge an arcane concoction for witches’ brew, even though this entry may be a trifle
too graphic for some.
I was just gazing at a lizard infested galaxy – our ceiling
– and no, it’s not as bad as you think it is. Anyway, there was a lizard with an odd tail that was slightly
zigzagged on one side. Instinctively, I
knew that this particular lizard lost its original tail and had grown a new
one. Perhaps he lost it in a fight for
the lizard-girl he loved, or maybe a naughty little boy simply found pleasure
in detaching the tail and watched with glee as the tail wriggled a few inches
away from the lizard’s body like a completely new creature with a bloody head. Who knows what caused it… but with two
brothers around, I have my suspicions. Hah!
Gory, huh? But having a tendency of connecting thoughts
strangely, this prompted me to think of human hearts. Sometimes, we lose our
hearts to pain in the event of fighting for someone we love, or simply because
a person had cruel delight in torturing it… but it grows back. It will bleed…
and it could get ugly at times…but it grows back… it may be slightly zigzagged
on one side… but it always grows back…
———————————–
Several friends were surprised with this information.
For those who were shocked that lizards have this ability, this manner of tail
regeneration is called "autotomy." Not all lizards are capable
of this, but the common tropical species in our house are. While studies
prove that having their tails detached do not endanger their lives, this
process is still said to be extremely traumatic for them.
Click here to comment on
Lizard Tails and Human Hearts
———————————————————————-
September 6, 2007
Friendster
Friendster… this extraordinary abode of acquaintances,
friends - fake and true,
a birthplace of love - real and unreal, a habitat for
scandal and inspiration, a nest of profundity and sciolism, flummery and wit, and
a melting pot for every peculiar character. Dear me!
It sounds just like the real world!
Three highly esteemed people in my life have abandoned or
eliminated their Friendster accounts, and there are times when I admit of
considering the same decision.
Yet, whenever I take a peek inside this microcosm, I see
Franz – a constant sharer of who I am,
Reji – an immutable uplifter of spirits,
Tonet – a sweet soul,
Mae – a loyal friend,
Vinz – a wonderful mnemonic of childhood,
MarieVic – a stinkin’ thinkin’ spinster like myself
(although superior in the thinkin’ sense),
Michelle (strangefits) – a partaker of my life,
Ohna – a person who considers me,
Gilmarck – who cares to look my way from up above and not
down under,
and I’ll include Nigell – who unceasingly brings out the
biggest laugh in me,
and a myriad of friends who are far away from me in the
real world but are capable of touching my heart through this community.
The moment I see these people, I say, “If I can have them in
two worlds, why settle with one?”
———————————————————————-
September 5, 2007
Obloquy
Every time I
use that word, I raise eyebrows or am demanded a definition. A simpleton like me wouldn’t have started
utilizing such a term if not for the wonderful vocabulary lessons that John
Fowles provides betwixt intricate narratives.
Nevertheless, I chanced upon a story that portrays two
people in a state of obloquy. I’ll just
summarize the tale.
There was a man who had a girlfriend. Unfortunately, a communication fracture came
upon them when the girlfriend had to live somewhere else. Of course, the silence made the man think
their relationship was over.
At the same time, there was also a woman who was going
through a heartbreaking experience as she watched the man she loved stray from
her.
These two met – the man and woman. When finally they realized that having each
other was enough to forget their former throes, they fell in love.
All of a sudden, the girlfriend resurfaced in the man’s life
and the woman found out that there was no formal break-up, and that the man was
still officially committed to the girlfriend.
This is where obloquy comes in. The woman’s
friends thought evil of the man for deceiving the woman while the
girlfriend and her friends thought it loathsome of the woman to steal
her boyfriend.
Even though the woman did not deem it as deceit, and the man
never considered himself being stolen, the public never bothered to investigate
the intentions and feelings of both, thus leaving the man and woman in a state
of obloquy.
This is obloquy – the condition of being generally
ill-spoken of.
———————————————————————-
September 4, 2007
Across the Universe
Despite being across islands and seas, Franz is still
capable of involving me in another craze. Beatlemania? Perhaps. Last night he told me about this upcoming musical, Across the Universe, that features Beatles songs. That caused us to rummage through YouTube for
trailers and clips.
Along with the previews that won me over, here’s what I
found out:
It is a musical directed by Julie Taymor (director of Frida and Titus). It will be accentuated with 30 Beatles songs. Set on the 1960’s, it tells the story of Jude
- an Englishman and an artist who travels to America. There he befriends Max and falls in love with Max’s sister, Lucy. The premiere is set on the 28th of this month – and
yes, much too far away!
Quoted from an anonymous writer, “Across The Universe is an original musical film - a fictional love
story set in the 1960s amid the turbulent years of anti-war protest, the
struggle for free speech and civil rights, mind exploration and rock and roll.
At once gritty, whimsical and highly theatrical, the story moves from high
schools and universities in Massachusetts, Princeton and Ohio to the Lower East
Side of Manhattan, the Detroit riots, Vietnam and the dockyards of Liverpool. A
combination of live action and painted and three-dimensional animation, the
film is paired with many Beatles songs that defined the time.”
———————————————————————-
September 3, 2007
Wringer
“You make me want to be a better person,”
or “You made me a
better person.”
I’m musing over these phrases.
They are bromides in wooing and
amongst
lovers – sweet clichés, nevertheless.
I’m wondering… do the majority of people
who say these lines
remain better beings
even when the particular person they’ve addressed went out of their lives?
———————————————————————-
September 2, 2007
Thoughts of Strings
Thanks
to Haidee, I am currently absorbed in another issue of Strings
Magazine. "Slava" is in here! Ah, I skim across the faces of Sol
Gabetta, Baiba Skride, Ilya Kaler, Sarah Chang, Anne-Sophie Mutter…
ohhhh… and a recovered Strad in Vienna! Not to mention a prolix list
of music conservatories and universities… hmmmm… dream on, Meewa.
———————————————————————-
September 1, 2007
Strings of Thought
Last night I liberated the guitar from its dusty corner. Somehow
I had the urge to pluck on its strings because a certain piece kept strumming
repeatedly on my mind. I had not paid attention to this guitar in months – or
perhaps years. The aftermath of this impulse?
Fingertip sores.
Maybe I was subconsciously aware that this would happen… but
I allowed myself to be in subjection to the music on my mind and that unstoppable
driving obsession to make music.
It’s much like laughing until your sides ache.
It’s a lot like falling in love…
Click Here to comment on
Strings of Thought
———————————————————————-
Permalink
09.07.07
Posted in 2007 Mosaic at 3:35 am by Miracle ♪♫
Before anything else, let me declare that I am not about to
divulge an arcane concoction for witches’ brew, even though this entry may be a trifle
too graphic for some.
I was just gazing at a lizard infested galaxy – our ceiling
– and no, it’s not as bad as you think it is. Anyway, there was a lizard with an odd tail that was slightly
zigzagged on one side. Instinctively, I
knew that this particular lizard lost its original tail and had grown a new
one. Perhaps he lost it in a fight for
the lizard-girl he loved, or maybe a naughty little boy simply found pleasure
in detaching the tail and watched with glee as the tail wriggled a few inches
away from the lizard’s body like a completely new creature with a bloody head. Who knows what caused it… but with two
brothers around, I have my suspicions. Hah!
Gory, huh? But having a tendency of connecting thoughts
strangely, this prompted me to think of human hearts. Sometimes, we lose our
hearts to pain in the event of fighting for someone we love, or simply because
a person had cruel delight in torturing it… but it grows back. It will bleed…
and it could get ugly at times…but it grows back… it may be slightly zigzagged
on one side… but it always grows back…
———————————————————————-
Several friends were surprised with this information.
For those who were shocked that lizards have this ability, this manner of tail
regeneration is called “autotomy.” Not all lizards are capable
of this, but the common tropical species in our house are. While studies
prove that having their tails detached do not endanger their lives, this
process is still said to be extremely traumatic for them.
Permalink
09.05.07
Posted in Uncategorized at 8:35 pm by Miracle ♪♫
———————————————————————-
September 6, 2007
Friendster
Friendster… this extraordinary abode of acquaintances,
friends - fake and true,
a birthplace of love - real and unreal, a habitat for
scandal and inspiration, a nest of profundity and sciolism, flummery and wit, and
a melting pot for every peculiar character. Dear me!
It sounds just like the real world!
Three highly esteemed people in my life have abandoned or
eliminated their Friendster accounts, and there are times when I admit of
considering the same decision.
Yet, whenever I take a peek inside this microcosm, I see
Franz – a constant sharer of who I am,
Reji – an immutable uplifter of spirits,
Tonet – a sweet soul,
Mae – a loyal friend,
Vinz – a wonderful mnemonic of childhood,
MarieVic – a stinkin’ thinkin’ spinster like myself
(although superior in the thinkin’ sense),
Michelle (strangefits) – a partaker of my life,
Ohna – a person who considers me,
Gilmarck – who cares to look my way from up above and not
down under,
and I’ll include Nigell – who unceasingly brings out the
biggest laugh in me,
and a myriad of friends who are far away from me in the
real world but are capable of touching my heart through this community.
The moment I see these people, I say, “If I can have them in
two worlds, why settle with one?”
———————————————————————-
Permalink
Posted in Life Betwixt Book Covers at 4:53 am by Miracle ♪♫
All I Really Need to
Know I Learned in Kindergarten.
I’ve
been hearing so much about this book through the years but I always managed to set it
aside - especially when I found out it was a bestseller. You know how I usually tend to snub sensationalized bestsellers – books
or movies, the way I shunned (and never watched) Lord of the Rings and Harry
Potter, and why you won’t find The Da Vinci Code on my shelf, because even Mark Twain does remind us to pause and reflect whenever we
find ourselves being in accord with the majority.
All I Really Need to
Know I Learned in Kindergarten however, is one of the few absolute exceptions. Franz convinced me to buy the 45-peso copy on
one of our book sale excursions, so I did. That still didn’t help me from letting it accumulate dust before paying
attention to it, but since I highly credit Franz’ taste in literature, I finally
decided to give myself over to the book.
Mr. Fulghum must forgive me for judging the book carelessly
and thinking it was just another Chicken
Soup. I realize now that it’s a “five-star chicken-fried steak with
parsley, a spiced peach, two dill pickles, and a fried egg with free
toothpicks, mints, and a map of Payette under the plate… and a kiss for
topping.” *smile*
The following are my common (and alright, insane) thoughts on Mr.
Fulghum’s uncommon thoughts.
Robert Fulghum says;
“…it is still true,
no matter how old you are – when you go out into the world, it is best to hold
hands and stick together.”
I say;
Yes, however sweaty they may be, you still have to hold
mine.
Robert Fulghum says;
“The washing machine
died last week. Five minutes later the dryer expired. Like a couple of elderly folks in a nursing
home who follow one another quickly in death, so closely are they entwined.”
I say;
Incredibly true! Same thing happened to ours!
Robert Fulghum says;
“Spiders-”
I say;
Skip that part, Sir. I still don’t wanna be landed on by a spider… you should see the ones
here in Dipolog.
Robert Fulghum says;
“Yelling at living
things does tend to kill the spirit in them…”
I say;
…if only people would whisper the person they yelled at back
to life.
Robert Fulghum says;
“It’s not for me to
pass judgment on how he handled his grief [Charles Boyer’s suicide after his
wife’s death]. But it is for me to say
that I am touched and comforted in a strange way…It really is possible to love
someone that much.”
I say;
I agree, but even if the man chose to live, that doesn’t mean
he loved his spouse less…
Robert Fulghum says;
The “gummy lump” with “I lov you” notes…
I say;
Oh, weee… I’ve got lots of those from Misha, too! Reading this makes me want to treasure them
more.
Robert Fulghum says;
“Why isn’t love easy?
I don’t know. And the raccoons don’t
say.”
I say;
I’m no ‘coon, but I’ll tell you. It’s because they don’t have to commit and
beget in-laws. They just make love and
directly wander off in their glazy-eyed stupor.
(You do realize I’m kidding,
right? haha)
Robert Fulghum says;
The “fecal shield.”
I say;
What fun! haha
Robert Fulghum says;
Crayolas
I say;
Now that’s the most brilliant thing I’ve read ever since
Jostein Gaarder’s Maya.
Robert Fulghum says;
“Better than
hide-and-seek, I like the game called Sardines.”
I say;
Meewa wants to play!!! Get
found kid!
Robert Fulghum says;
“I remember riding
home on a summer’s eve in the back of an ancient Ford pickup truck… with stars
and moon and God o’erhead, and sweet dreams at the end of the journey home. Now
that’s transportation.”
I say;
I remember riding home on a summer’s eve in the
back/semi-trunk of a Nissan California…with stars and moon and God o’erhead,
and sweet dreams at the end of the journey home… and the people I love seated
in front of me… I can even remember the scent of each person…
Now that’s transportation.
Robert Fulghum says;
Hair grows at the rate
of about half an inch a month.
I say;
Are you clairvoyant Mr. Fulghum? As I read this portion of your
book earlier today, I was seated on a parlor chair having my hair trimmed.
Robert Fulghum says;
“The everlasting
tandem. Men in front, women to the rear. It’s probably true that men are
stronger. But women are smarter…”
I say;
Oh I just love you, Mr. Fulghum!!! Haha
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09.01.07
Posted in Uncategorized at 1:12 am by Miracle ♪♫
Last night I liberated the guitar from its dusty corner. Somehow
I had the urge to pluck on its strings because a certain piece kept strumming
repeatedly on my mind. I had not paid attention to this guitar in months – or
perhaps years. The aftermath of this impulse?
Fingertip sores.
Maybe I was subconsciously aware that this would happen… but
I allowed myself to be in subjection to the music on my mind and that unstoppable
driving obsession to make music.
It’s much like laughing until your sides ache.
It’s a lot like falling in love…
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This book is indeed of a chthonic temperament…and I would not hastily refer it to anyone despite its literary brilliance and intensity. It is the only bildungsroman or künstlerroman
