Asking the Universe for another.
Asking the Universe for another. We love and we bleed and we suffer, and we say more, more, give me more.
Stephanie said “Anyone who thinks life is short isn’t paying enough attention.”
What do I even want? Curiousity, and kindness, and generosity of spirit. A fallen sad sinner, just like me. A wicked sense of humor, with a Good Little Girl inside, inside. Not Moralizing Superego but Moral Ego. A skeptic, but one who is a happy liver, or maybe spleen.
Round and round the mulberry bush.
Giles Corey at the Salem Witch Trail, saying either “Wait!” or “more weight!.” Lame joke of my father. Remember everything? Maybe — Giles Corey came flowing from the Collective Subconscious, not my own ontological being.
Being, being and time, Sein und Zeit, I’ve read a bit about Sein, not as much about Zeit, Zeit, cruel master.
Sketches. Not a post, not an entry. Exhalations of my being. Little whirlpools, and sailing past the Wandering Rocks.