I don’t deserve to be loved with a fire more intense than one thousand hells. I don’t deserve to ride forever on the breeze of your whims. I don’t deserve to curl up and melt into your soul or to have you abide in mine. But these things you give me. You give me rain to quench my thirst and ink to record the very thoughts you inspire. You give me peace in my darkest hour though all you provide I may turn to naught. I flee from you and attempt to hide in the arms of others. And still you love me. Still you give me more than I deserve. Still you give me more than I could ever desire. Still you wait, because you know that i can only slip through their hands. You know my intricate design locks only with yours. Because you love me, you set me free, only to know that I am yours, indeed. posted by me 9:56 AM . . .
Twin Grannies There is a pair of twin grannies that walk around our area. They must obviously live together, or call each other every day to coordinate outfits. That's right. They aren't just grannies that are alike, they are identical. They wear the same outfits, have the same haircuts and the same glasses. I have seen them walking together rather regularly up and down our street and at first found it curious and odd. One day, however, I experienced a somewhat odder phenomenon. Yes, odder than syncronized twin grannies. That's right, independant twin grannies. I was driving toward my apartment when I saw the first one and then saw the second as I pulled into the parking lot. Although they had been walking separately, they were still similarly adorned. Had I not known that they were twin grannies I may have thought she was the fastest senior pedestrain I have ever encountered. But I knew they were two separate, yet identical women. I felt the compelling urge to stop the nearest granny and ask if there was, perhaps, a problem. Granted, I've never talked to the twin grannies before, but I was disurbed by this separation. There is just something in the thought that after decades of similarity these grannies still wanted to be alike in every form. Comfort, if you will, in the familiarity and stability of others. Knowing that somethings don't change in the midst of an ever revolving/evolving world. Thinking that someone out there, or two someones, were fighting the tide of post-modern independence, knowing that there is relief in the arms of others and we are not alone in this world. Hope that each of us has some sort of twin granny out there for support and care. Needless to say, my social consciousness constrained my desire to meddle in the affairs of others, even if it was to ease the stress of my own sanity. I stopped neither granny and have not seen them since. I hope they are doing well. posted by me 12:15 PM . . .
Dear Ickle, You are and will always be my ickle. ~Ickle posted by me 11:21 AM . . .
Drunk? Fill ‘er up to the brim; it’ll only take a shot or two, till I’m drunk on you. How excellent. Drunk on you. Intoxicated with the very essence of another. Ah, an inebriation undeserving of a tall glass of water or long night’s sobering rest. A dizzying frenzy of desiring more than your own selfish wants and needs, desiring the needs of another to be met, and to meet them when at all possible. Sometimes it’s not possible, yet by some miraculous gift of Heaven your mark is met. Bullseye. Nothing but net from beyond half court. Sixty-yard field goal splitting the uprights, against a gale, in three feet of snow, by a red-shirting freshman, from Paraguay. Yeah, it’s like that, but better. How excellent. posted by me 7:42 AM . . .
