Monday, September 25, 2006 The Recluse...*

The Recluse...*

The end of September is generally the time I enter the corridor of sorrow. Traditionally this is the time of year when I am haunted by the memories of sadness past and repressed feelings of pain and loss. I think that occasionally wallowing in ennui can be cathartic.

If you happen to spot a girl with unshed tears in her blue eyes and a journal full of memories, give her a tissue and remind her that it is only seasonal.

*Song by Cursive

Thursday, September 21, 2006 What's Your Currency?

What's Your Currency?

I thought (incorrectly) that Winston Churchill once said that "everyone is a whore, it is only the price that is in question". I can't find the exact quote, so perhaps Winston Churchill only said those words in my head.

A few days ago I asked a friend what their currency would be. They responded that they "would pay any price for silence" and asked me what my price/currency would be. Being more of a skipping stone than a sinking rock, I was unsure. The question made me think about what is most important to me in broader terms than people and possessions. I have decided my currency is peace. Peace is defined by Merriam-Webster as: 1 : a state of tranquility or quiet: as a : freedom from civil disturbance b : a state of security or order within a community provided for by law or custom 2 : freedom from disquieting or oppressive thoughts or emotions 3 : harmony in personal relations 4 a : a state or period of mutual concord between governments b : a pact or agreement to end hostilities between those who have been at war or in a state of enmity. I am exceptionally good at wartime strategy, but I have developed those skills in order to avoid or end conflict as soon as possible. I dislike disturbance, loud noises, and unrest. To me contentment is calm.

What is your currency?

Wednesday, September 20, 2006 Nothing is as certain as that the vices of leisure are gotten rid of by being busy. - Seneca

Nothing is as certain as that the vices of leisure are gotten rid of by being busy. - Seneca

The last two weeks have been crazy busy. No time to read, no time to write, no time to sit in the backyard and stare into nothing while enjoying a glass of merlot and a Dunhill (light). Expect a much longer and insightful post tomorrow or Friday.

Tuesday, September 12, 2006 A Heart Without A Mind...*

A Heart Without A Mind...*

I have decided the paradox of my existence is that I have an unlimited capacity for rebellion, but not enough passion for anything to bother to rebel.

*Song by Styrofoam

Monday, September 11, 2006 "God Deciding" *

"God Deciding" *

Although I don't have anything enlightening or prosaic to write about September 11th, I feel it would be disrespectful not to recognize it. Below is my story of that morning in Atlanta.

I was walking through the lobby of my office on the way to the mailroom on September 11th, 2001. The televisions in the lobby were tuned to CNN. Three people were milling around the reception desk and someone mentioned that a plane just flew into the World Trade Center. There was a second of joking about the navigational skills of bad amateur pilots. I giggled, picked up my mail, and headed back through the lobby. The crowd of three had grown to a crowd of twenty something in under 10 minutes. The second plane had hit and we had realized it was not an accident. Our entire office crowded around the television sets scattered throughout the floor and watched in stunned silence. By 9:30 am our office was evacuated for fear that we may be a target. By 9:45 am I was sitting on the rooftop deck of my loft watching the skies that were eerily free of planes (despite the fact that I lived in a flight path). At 10 am I turned on the radio and heard that the first tower had collapsed. I remember sitting and waiting all day long for the horrors to continue to unfold. I knew life in the US would forever be changed.

*Song by Hot Water Music

Friday, September 08, 2006 A Song for You...*

A Song for You...*

I've been so many places in my life and time
I've sung a lot of songs I've made some bad rhymes
I've acted out my love in stages
With ten thousand people watching
Now we're alone and I'm singing my song for you
I hoped your image of me is what I hoped it to be
I treated you unkind but darlin' can't you see
There's no one more important to me
So darlin' won't you see right through me
When we're alone and I am singing my song for you
You taught me precious secrets of a love witholding nothing
You came out front when I was hiding
Now I am so much better, if my words don't come together
Listen to the melody cause my love is in there hiding
I love you in a place where there's no space or time
I love you for my life, you are a friend of mine
And when my life is over
Think of when we were together
When we were alone and I was singing my song for you

Love songs by boys are so much better than love songs by girls.

*Lyrics by Kind of Like Spitting

Monday, September 04, 2006 Bad Dog

Bad Dog

My dog, who I love more than 99.9% of humans I have met, ruined the weekend. He plowed through my mother's precious flowers, he antagonized the neighbors, he tackled a small boy, and tried to eat my parents cat. I think it may be time for a little discipline....