“When inspiration is silent reason tires quickly.” ~ Roger Zelazny
The later sunrises please me. I’m just ready for fall; that’s what it is. I’m running late this morning, as far as this blog writing stuff is concerned. The coffee is brewing and I am hosting a dreamy mood. A mood like this, whether born of fantasy or reality, is a good thing to have. You can go places with it. New things can begin here because dreams are the underlying currency of hope. This is the depressive in me speaking. A change of season spiked with thick remnants of dreams is rich with promise. That’s what I’m sayin’.
Today’s opening photo is not of a shelter cat. She’s mine. Rosie the cat. Eight and a half years old. She’s a mellow girl except at 3 AM. Then, not so much. But I like to get up early anyway. Problem solved. The usual bleary eyes this morning, the brain is not so far behind, and something about these hints of fatigue makes me smile. Being fatigued and not knowing it seems kind of foolish to me. I was recently called a fool by a rather snarly woman who posted a reply on this blog a ways back. My first thought was that she may have been dancing with martinis as she wrote. That seemed a tad unkind of me but kindness is not usually my first reaction to hateful stuff. Besides, who uses the word “fool” anyway. It’s not really in common usage anymore. This scares me quite a bit. With all of the self-empowerment trends in the past three decades I can see how the word may have been cast aside rather cavalierly. Yet maybe I should have gone to some of them seminars, no? I’m kind of your basic off the shelf unit. I have mostly, throughout my life, reckoned that we all have unlimited access to the universe. How could we not? This attitude has landed me, at age 60, working in an animal shelter for low wages. I mean, like, ya know, what if I were to find myself in the presence of a rich heiress who was attracted to me, and the question would come down to a matter of hiding my peasantry or just going with the flow? My choice would be the latter of course. It always seemed to me that the phrase “go with the flow” was pretty much redundant, because I just ain’t, and never was, sure that we have much say in the matter. We are just not that big. But I could be wrong about that. It is said, quite often anymore, that we create our own reality. K, maybe we do. I’d like that. Maybe I can do that soon? I don’t think that anyone would mind, except maybe for the woman who called me a fool, and maybe some of her cadre of folks who created a situation of their own, which led rather surreptitiously to my being called a fool. Damn it! Don’tcha jest love them kind of folks. Anyway, back to the heiress. It was a thought experiment for my own edification. There is no such woman. I made her up. I created her. If she were to walk through the door of the cattery at the animal shelter I would have to break out my best confused smile and say, “How did you get here? I thought you were all in my head.”. I like what the late great Terence McKenna, who I feel was one of the great minds of the 20th Century, said about thinking: half the time when you think you are thinking you are actually just listening. Paraphrased, of course.
Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously, k?