And a women spoke, saying, Tell us of pain.
And he said:
Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses
your understanding.
Even as the stone of the fruit must break so that its heart
may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.
And could you keep your heart in wonder at the daily
miracles of your life, your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy;
And you would accept the seasons of your heart, even
as you have always accepted the seasons that pass over
your fields.
And you would watch with serenity through the winters
of your grief.
Much of your pain is self-chosen.
It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you
heals your sick self.
Therefore trust the physician, and drink his remedy in
silence and tranquility:
For his hand, though heavy and hard, is guided by the
tender hand of the unseen,
And the cup he brings, tho it burn your lips, has
been fashioned of the clay which the Potter
has moistened with His own sacred tears.

From The Prophet - Kahlil Gibran

Thankyou.....

What is it to sleep with somebody you love and loves you? While your bodies rest do your souls dance together and chat and go on meandering little walks where you point out cute dream-realm creatures and sparkly unconscious flowers? I think so.

If you don't love each other do your souls ninja-kick and headlock each other or do you just meander alone?

If you sleep by yourself do you unconsciously call the ones you love on the telepathic telephone and ask them to meet you on an other-world hill? I think so.
Unless you are busy with monsters.

But then maybe they will help you fight the monsters?
I don't know.

If they aren't familiar with monsters, are there places you shouldn't take them? Hills you should not meet on? Creatures you should not point out? Probably.

I like sleeping with someone I love and who loves me. I like it a lot.

The History Of One Tough Motherfucker

Charles Bukowski

he came to the door one night wet thin beaten and
terrorized
a white cross-eyed tailless cat
I took him in and fed him and he stayed
grew to trust me until a friend drove up the driveway
and ran him over
I took what was left to a vet who said,"not much
chance...give him these pills...his backbone
is crushed, but it was crushed before and somehow
mended, if he lives he'll never walk, look at
these x-rays, he's been shot, look here, the pellets
are still there...also, he once had a tail, somebody
cut it off..."

I took the cat back, it was a hot summer, one of the
hottest in decades, I put him on the bathroom
floor, gave him water and pills, he wouldn't eat, he
wouldn't touch the water, I dipped my finger into it
and wet his mouth and I talked to him, I didn't go any-
where, I put in a lot of bathroom time and talked to
him and gently touched him and he looked back at
me with those pale blue crossed eyes and as the days went
by he made his first move
dragging himself forward by his front legs
(the rear ones wouldn't work)
he made it to the litter box
crawled over and in,
it was like the trumpet of possible victory
blowing in that bathroom and into the city, I
related to that cat - I'd had it bad, not that
bad but bad enough

one morning he got up, stood up, fell back down and
just looked at me.

"you can make it," I said to him.

he kept trying, getting up falling down, finally
he walked a few steps, he was like a drunk, the
rear legs just didn't want to do it and he fell again, rested,
then got up.

you know the rest: now he's better than ever, cross-eyed
almost toothless, but the grace is back, and that look in
his eyes never left...

and now sometimes I'm interviewed, they want to hear about
life and literature and I get drunk and hold up my cross-eyed,
shot, runover de-tailed cat and I say,"look, look
at this!"

but they don't understand, they say something like,"you
say you've been influenced by Celine?"

"no," I hold the cat up,"by what happens, by
things like this, by this, by this!"

I shake the cat, hold him up in
the smoky and drunken light, he's relaxed he knows...

it's then that the interviews end
although I am proud sometimes when I see the pictures
later and there I am and there is the cat and we are photo-graphed together.

he too knows it's bullshit but that somehow it all helps.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Yep. The auld bastard gave me a chuckle. (though I do yearn to insert, my friend, the comma!)

Word for the Day - ex·po·nen·tial

1. Of or relating to an exponent.
2. Mathematics.
a. Containing, involving, or expressed as an exponent.
b. Expressed in terms of a designated power of e, the base of natural logarithms.

Bonus Word - ex·po·nent

1. One that expounds or interprets.
2. One that speaks for, represents, or advocates

3. Mathematics. A number or symbol, as 3 in (x + y)3, placed to the right of and above another number, symbol, or expression, denoting the power to which that number, symbol, or expression is to be raised. Also called power.

I Thank the Universe for - yeast, hops, barley, malt, sugar, just: everything.

Soundtrack - the drone of my family and the not barely loud enough strains of my.... own.... personal..... jesus.

Sharpen Your Senses

In sudden darkness,
count these three things,

What is inside you
What you hold &
What you can reach

All else is perilous
or accidental.

".... I walk outside
and the heinous men
the steel men
who believe in the privacy of a wallet
and cement
and chosen occasions only
(Christmas New Year's the 4th of July)
to attempt to manifest a life
that has lain in a drawer like a single glove
that is brought out like a fist:
too much and too late"

Bukowski

My Contribution.

First blog you ever read?

Drawing It Out

What inspired you to start your own?

I wanted to talk to Sean Zachariah

The best and worst about blogging?

Best- Sometimes it's nice to be heard Worst- You can't tell the truth.

Who was the first person to comment on your blog? Troll your archives and find out.

Gun Street Girl. She had to.

What has been your most popular blog entry?

It was called 'Happy Eunice'. Because I can't tell the truth I was being silly and I put a photo of a cute little asian girl called Eunice in a (real) field. I think kids are very cute especially when they have names like that. It turned into warfare because some strung-out, twisted chauvinist egomaniac got very angry that I had used his picture on a previous post even tho it still had his name on it. He was mean to me. I was upset because I had stayed up all nite trying to find the words to explain my sadness and I couldn't. Just before I went to bed I found a picture of a fighting girl surrounded by spirity things and I thought it was perfect. I never said I drew it. I thought art is supposed to speak. Anyway it was negative and horrible and I once again realised I was trying to reason with someone who just likes being angry. No point. It was popular because everyone stuck up for me. Despite this, I don't remember it fondly. Happy Eunice indeed.

If I re-named my blog I would call it...

Mission:Absolution

If my blog had a theme song it would be

Pandora's Aquarium by Tori Amos
Well even.... the whole album: Tori Amos from the choirgirl hotel

If my blog was a room it would look like...

It would be like the Magic Faraway Tree. It would change all the time.

Five bloggers I would like to have over for dinner.

Graham Pollock, and 4 of the http://evangelicaltextualcriticism.blogspot.com team.

Two bloggers you would like to set up on a blind date.

I not think about such things and even now that I am thinking about it, I feel it is not something
I would do. Sorry.

Somebody I wish had a blog?

Hicks.

If you were only allowed to read one blog ever again, which blog would it be?

Mine.

Is there a fellow blogger you would like to snog / shag / do rude things to? Feel free to name names if you're game.

Nope.

Discover a blog. Link to a blog that you have recently found, or a blog you have been reading for a while and haven't blogrolled.

http://aferretofsorts.blogspot.com

Tag five bloggers to complete this meme.

Nope.


: )

Crusher

Ich bin sehr müde. Ist hier ein Minipseudohöhlenbewohner