Just the philosophical intro of this post poked me into reposting it -Poch:
I’m convinced that there are no such things as “beginnings.”
Everything is just a continuation of the same process.
I am fooled sometimes into thinking that I am starting a new path by peaks and anti-peaks. When one episode reaches either an explosive or a fizzled end, then I believed that a new path began.
It has been raining for two days.
My personal mountain stream is babbling merrily in the gloom and through my door yard.
I light another cigarette and type my thoughts.
“Jessica” is playing on the iTunes. God bless Greg Allman and Steve Jobs
“Sounds of Silence” preceded. Remember Teen Angst? God bless naivete.
Give me Van Morrison, Muddy Waters, J.S. Bach, Ian Anderson, Ricard Wagner.
The brothers George; Harrison, Jones and Gershwin. Antonio and Charlie–Vivaldi and Parker.
Them too. And a bunch of others. Don’t forget Leon Redbone please.
Sing my life to me, and I will sing along. By myself.
Solo A Capella.
Put Simon and Garfunkel on the bottom shelf along with a seriously misguided second decade.
Five is too many and not nearly enough.
Start packing. Turn the page. It is not the end of the story yet. I can tell because the sentence does not end at the bottom of the page, but I am only given one page at a time.
Put me in coach. I’m ready to play. Today.
Look at me, I can be
I’ll be back.