mortality picks at salad bars.
it is true:
what is not done
haunts longer and more deeply
than what is done.
geese are magical.
overlooked.
underesimated.
40,000 germs.
100,000 miles per hour.
the mathematics of the sneeze.
humor can be a lonely game.
i must be pretty.
one of my mom's students said so.
and my server ex-friend.
and a slightly drunk man
heading to the ruby tuesday bar.
music
is the story of the soul.
i can't always bend the rules.
sometimes i actually have to follow them.
and, sometimes,
that's okay.
dreams are as tangible as dandelions.
they are there,
free and beautiful,
whole.
but as soon as you reach them,
they drift away
one by one,
like tears.
to be human is to need.
two beasts rule in the food industry:
the desire for home -
comfort, familiarity, couches -
and the drive for money -
bills, tuition, alcohol.
spiders parked on a spot on the ceiling for a week
are preparing to molt or die.
so it goes.
expectations and disappointment
go together.
somerset is a watering hole for
grey-speckled hair,
warm family eyes,
soft, tired cheeks,
shiny ties,
kind eastern european accents,
and lonely, homesick hearts,
yearning for the land.
God always gives what is asked for:
not when it is requested,
but when it is needed.
i am probably a workaholic.
1/6/2013-1/12/2013
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