“Perhaps the mission of those who love mankind is to make people laugh at the truth, to make truth laugh, because the only truth lies in learning to free ourselves from insane passion for the truth.”~ Umberto Eco
“I seem to know all the cliches, but not how to put them together in a believable way. Or else these stories are terrible and grandiose precisely because all the cliches intertwine in an unrealistic way and you can’t disentangle them. But when you actually live a cliche, it feels brand new, and you are unashamed.” ~ Umberto Eco
“The light in her eyes was beyond description, yet it did not instill improper thoughts: it inspired a love tempered by awe, purifying the hearts it inflamed.” ~ Umberto Eco
There is still the anticipation of snow, and darn it all if I am going to stop at all believing that it shall come to pass. Out in the marketplace the Sunshine people like to jump on any ray of Sunlight and say it proves that there will be little or no snow for you today, bro. Whatever. There is a grand sense of adventure for me as a storm swirls in, giant eddies emerging from the powerful forces pushing up against the mountains to the east, funneling down Pueblo Canyon, giving satisfaction to all but the Sunshine people. So, just who are the Sunshine people? Sigh. Ask them how they are and they say “Outstanding”, or “if I was any better I couldn’t stand it”. Some of them even like to manifest new realities, realities that are warmly beneficial to them, regardless of the way they inadvertently ruffle the realities of others. Don’t get me wrong, I love (most of) these folks. And to them I say “shine on brightly”. We all benefit from the sunshine, whereas some of us are of the storm, and the storm’s energy and frequency feed us, for there are grand emotions in the swirl of the clouds, evanescence in the eddies, quantum wonder in exactly just how a storm occurs at all. And yet, I, personally, am not only of the storm, I often am the storm. It kinda sorta set in to my soul that night I stood on US 1, on Windley Key, at 2 AM, watching palm trees lay low, and Brazilian pepper trees rustled in the most hyper shimmy you will ever see. Amazing, I loved it. The storm was Hurricane Andrew, the year 1992. But that was a long time ago and I have but a short time before I go to my workday. This rambling post all came together somehow, in the grand scheme of things, cast not of sunshine and positive thinking. See, ya gotta refrain from closing the door on Darkness. It will wait, for it is drawn to the Light like a moth to your iPhone screen. If you lock it out it will wait at your door until you open it, perhaps whence to find Vincent Price or Bela Lugosi before you, in Liberace’s glittered smoking jacket. Either of both of them are on shrooms. Trust me on this. That’s all folks. I gotta get ready for work, and I am only 14 years old, and my body is 64, and I long for snow. Vinny and I will share some fine cognac before the fire; maybe some Indica. All of this I must take to work. Ciao.
Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.