Mugged

Who stole the sun from my heart?

I'll pack it back with firecrackers and gasoline and politely ask someone for a match made in heaven.

 

Power Steering

Those who are sardonic in vicissitude

are probably way too late to be benevolent in guidance.

-PK

(Can you believe that came out of me in one burst of thought?)

Shakespeare - Julius Caesar

Mark Antony:

Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears;
I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him;
The evil that men do lives after them,
The good is oft interréd with their bones,
So let it be with Caesar…. The noble Brutus
Hath told you Caesar was ambitious:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Caesar answered it….
Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest,
(For Brutus is an honorable man;
So are they all; all honorable men)
Come I to speak in Caesar's funeral….
He was my friend, faithful and just to me:
But Brutus says he was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honorable man….
He hath brought many captives home to Rome,

whose ransoms did the general coffers fill.
Did this in Caesar seem ambitious?
When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept:
Ambition should be made of sterner stuff:
Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honorable man.
You all did see thaton the Lupercal
I thrice presented him a kingly crown,
Which he did thrice refuse: was this ambition?
Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;
And, sure, he is an honorable man.
I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke,
But here I am to speak what I do know.
You all did love him once, not without cause:
What cause withholds you then to mourn for him?
O judgment! thou art fled to brutish beasts,
And men have lost their reason…. Bear with me;
My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar,
And I must pause till it come back to me.

Goal for today:

Have 2 entries from others I wish to comment upon, but may need to use my cell to do so.

Here comes the technology.

 

February Flashback

Just found this in the X drive archive.

Last entry before I left for the fateful trip to Monmouth Medical Center at the urging of Kara in Feb.

 

Crestfallen,

mercy light.

I have the will,

but not to fight.

 

Discouraged, down

Without a clue

I screwed up

In spite of you

 

Time will tell

Which wounds will heal

All I felt

Is truly real

 

My rhyme and meter

are off tonight

I tried but just

Don’t feel quite right

Them's hunting words

Amused

Abused

Confused

Refused

Who of you might be Geraldo Rivera and who of you might be Hunter S. Thompson?

 

(Hint: Was I locked up because I emulated the Hunter above?)

 

Tired, Wired, Wiser

Boy, am I wired. Tonight might be one of those nights. One of those nights when it’s wiser to stay up than to go to sleep. One of those nights when I’m better off slogging through tomorrow rather than fighting myself to wake-up today. The difference in noun tense is the difference in reality. Here comes the dreaded all-nighter.

 

It’s only 3:30, but if I go to sleep now, gauging my wiredness, I won’t fall asleep until 4:30. Then, I’ll have to wake up at 6:30. If you’re one of the many who has questioned my sleeping habits, you know how unlikely that likelyhood is. If you’re one of the few who know my pharmaceutical regimen, you know that if I nod off, I’ll be useless for 12 hours. I already have a pot of coffee ready to go at the flick of a switch.

 

But my brain and body feel good. All but for the 5-mile jog yesterday, which is still yielding unspeakable emissions from my lungs and a wobbliness in the still gimpy knee. I feel better doing it tonight than I have in six months. I did a lot of unpostable thinking tonight, which translated to a bit of unpostable writing. Which may, in turn, translate to a pivotal next week. Ugh.