Greetings chums:
I hope you this finds you well.
My day began rather poorly, as I overslept for a considerable length of time. Most of those who know me well would find this shocking, as I am a chronic insomniac. However, I do sleep with the right combination of (prescription) drugs. The problem was I took them far too late and they did not wear off in time. On the plus side, I was extraordinarily well rested.
A party I was looking foward to was cancelled. This is somewhat of a disappointment since it was being held by a woman I am tremendously attracted to. The sad part of that story is she lives about 90 miles away, but so it goes. I have this strange penchant for longing after the beautiful, fascinating, but for some reason unavailable. Freud, if I believed in him, would have had a hard on for this shit, to be sure.
Then I took my daughter's to therapy. It kills me that they need it, but they do after what their mother had put them through. (They were hurt pretty badly, I won't give details hear and now.) The poor things deserve so much goodness, so much joy, so much beauty, and they have had to struggle through so much. And yet, they are not angry children, they are loving and outgoing and happy. They are an inspiration to me. I tend to brood for a while in the darkness, with an eye on a distant light I can't seem to reach. Maybe I am just not trying hard enough. Still, there is a certain beauty in the dark. Sadness is not always an evil thing, at the very least sorrow hold an element of truth, and like Keats said, truth is beauty, beauty truth. A purity, an honesty exposed to the core. And beauty of all colors should be appreciated, respected. One should not hate their sadness anymore than we should bathe in it for too long. Hmmm ... my post has suddenly gone all emo.
I have to drive into the city tomorrow and pick up my kilt. It needed some alterations and repairs, and I have wedding coming up. My daughters and I are standing up. I can't wait. It's my best friend from college, whom I love like a sister. She too deserves so much happiness, and has given so much love. I couldn't be happier that she is finally being loved back.
That's probably enough musing for one evening, and there is a nice breeze coming through. I like to be in a cold room, and have lots of warm blankets. A strange paradox? Perhaps, but so it goes. The girls are asleep. The night is quiet, cool and dark. This is perfect reading weather. I'm delving into Brett Easton Ellis' "Rules of Attraction," and reading "A Clockwork Orange," for the umteenth time. I also have fat stack of magazines to finish. For the first time all day I feel calm.
This is a strange phenomenon, is it not? I voice my thoughts to anyone who cares to read them, as you do. It's somewhat amazing that anyone would take the time to read them, my dear friends whom I have never met. (another strange phenom, no?) Nevertheless, read and enjoy them I hope you do.
I wish you peace.
I hope you this finds you well.
My day began rather poorly, as I overslept for a considerable length of time. Most of those who know me well would find this shocking, as I am a chronic insomniac. However, I do sleep with the right combination of (prescription) drugs. The problem was I took them far too late and they did not wear off in time. On the plus side, I was extraordinarily well rested.
A party I was looking foward to was cancelled. This is somewhat of a disappointment since it was being held by a woman I am tremendously attracted to. The sad part of that story is she lives about 90 miles away, but so it goes. I have this strange penchant for longing after the beautiful, fascinating, but for some reason unavailable. Freud, if I believed in him, would have had a hard on for this shit, to be sure.
Then I took my daughter's to therapy. It kills me that they need it, but they do after what their mother had put them through. (They were hurt pretty badly, I won't give details hear and now.) The poor things deserve so much goodness, so much joy, so much beauty, and they have had to struggle through so much. And yet, they are not angry children, they are loving and outgoing and happy. They are an inspiration to me. I tend to brood for a while in the darkness, with an eye on a distant light I can't seem to reach. Maybe I am just not trying hard enough. Still, there is a certain beauty in the dark. Sadness is not always an evil thing, at the very least sorrow hold an element of truth, and like Keats said, truth is beauty, beauty truth. A purity, an honesty exposed to the core. And beauty of all colors should be appreciated, respected. One should not hate their sadness anymore than we should bathe in it for too long. Hmmm ... my post has suddenly gone all emo.
I have to drive into the city tomorrow and pick up my kilt. It needed some alterations and repairs, and I have wedding coming up. My daughters and I are standing up. I can't wait. It's my best friend from college, whom I love like a sister. She too deserves so much happiness, and has given so much love. I couldn't be happier that she is finally being loved back.
That's probably enough musing for one evening, and there is a nice breeze coming through. I like to be in a cold room, and have lots of warm blankets. A strange paradox? Perhaps, but so it goes. The girls are asleep. The night is quiet, cool and dark. This is perfect reading weather. I'm delving into Brett Easton Ellis' "Rules of Attraction," and reading "A Clockwork Orange," for the umteenth time. I also have fat stack of magazines to finish. For the first time all day I feel calm.
This is a strange phenomenon, is it not? I voice my thoughts to anyone who cares to read them, as you do. It's somewhat amazing that anyone would take the time to read them, my dear friends whom I have never met. (another strange phenom, no?) Nevertheless, read and enjoy them I hope you do.
I wish you peace.
you sound like a very loving father.
and i completely agree with everything you said about sadness.