More Maddening Bits that Fall Into and Out Of My Head

One of the librarians asked today: "If you had to choose a book to "be" , like the people at the end of Farenheit451, which book would you choose to be?"  It's a stumper.  There are so many books I love.  Shakespeare, Frost, Longfellow, Ogden Nash, heck, BRADBURY! Which book to choose?!

There are days when I feel like I am entirely unappreciated and taken for granted.  Good ol' Katie, always where she's supposed to be, always does what needs to be done.  Some days I feel like disappearing.  Then we'd see if I was missed.

My love is not given lightly. If I say I love you, it is no small thing to me.



2/11/16
"We walk upon a midnight's rug neither drunk nor dreamed nor drugged." - Bukowski

The only lines that catch me in today's reading.
Cats, hunters, traditionally tend to stalk the night
and some humans, perhaps innocently,
Stalk in midnight's dark, as well.
Those who can't sleep
Perhaps kept wakeful
By words and images in their heads
Things that want out desperately
Yet balk at the blank page
Or the empty screen.
No alcohol, no dreams, no chemical inducements-
Just stubborn muses
Who refuse to be hurried along.
Much like the moon.
And the cat.


2/12

"The factories, the jails, the drunken days and nights, the hospitals have weakened and shaken me like a mouse in the mouth of a hip-cat:  life." - Bukowski


I feel weakened and shaken, but it is more by the endless chores and endless losses that seem to make up life.
"We all live in a yellow subroutine" is an OLD programmer's joke, but it is very apt.
Most of us in this life spend most of our time dealing with seemingly trivial background matters - those delegated to a subroutine in a program-
However, any programmer can tell you, if even one little line of a subroutine breaks down, if those "trivial" bits cease to be dealt with, the entire program WILL crash.


How little time there is to really enjoy the moments we are alive.  So many details barge in, our own needs, the needs of others, future needs that want planning for, how are we ever supposed to just BE in this world?  It's too damn hard to do.  Too difficult to find time to just soak up your surroundings and your existence.  Intrusions are everywhere, but most of all inside my own head.  Words, words, words, passions, colors, shapes, love, sorrow, joy, all come crowding in, all at once, and shatter any hard-won silence I may find.