Jonathan Winters
What do you do when 1) you can't get more than 5 words out before hitting delete 2) realize that the idea you had for this post really sucks way too late to hit the delete button 3) read your post upon 'completion' and wonder again how long ago it was that you ceased to appreciate your own point of view(s) and then hit the delete button, or 4) bring up the page, stare at past posts and go back to You Tube...
Don't believe in miracles - depend on them.
Laurence J. Peter
Yeah... and I think I've reached a barrier of sorts. Not of sorts, even. It's one of those head-high concrete jobs completely surrounding a huge empty space. Like a vacant lot. And there're a couple of old guys standing on top of the barrier trying to see what's inside; like it's something they've just got to check out, 3, 4, 5 times a day. Standing there, rain or shine, smoking those filthy old roll-your -owns with one hand while they balance with the other, no place to go, nothing else to do, and lots of time to do it. If I keep my head down, maybe they won't see me. I don't know anymore than they do, at this point, or at least that's my story. Where is that goddamned bus?
We want a story that starts out with an earthquake and works its way up to a climax.
Samuel Goldwyn
I have this picture in my head. It's a bulletin board. Placed haphazardly over nearly every square inch of this board are little yellow post-ems that have a word very precisely printed on each one. But a breeze is coming up and now the breeze steps aside as a brief but intense gust ripples down the length of the board, overpowering the adhesive, and I watch the yellow notes dislodge, dancing away into oblivion. But, some are resistant and remain, slowly returning to lie flat again as the gust dies. And as I look more closely, I am amazed. There are no words on the post-ems that are left...
banal -adjective -so lacking in originality as to be obvious and boring
I've lost a bunch of weight in the past few months. I wasn't trying to, it just sort of happened. Like I'd taken up smoking again. This kid I knew a million years ago and I used to get way too high and then drive out to the airport. We'd sit at the end of the main runway under the approach lights smoking and watching the planes land. Seemed like they were going to land right on top of us and it was so loud that all you could do was look at each other and laugh hysterically. Then we'd jump back in the car and drive until we found our way back. I know we must've taken a different way every time, even though there's only a couple of ways you can go. And every time we'd listen to Led Zeppelin or Cactus as loud as it could go because our ears were ringing so bad and once we got calmed down, I'd look over at him and we'd start up laughing hysterically all over again. I'm not so sure we ever did find our way back...
Faith is an island in the setting sun, But proof is the bottom line for everyone.
Paul Simon
There are those moments that reveal so much, and there are more, that, sadly do not, even when we think they should. A chance taken is not a wisdom gained unless, of course, you convince yourself you have indeed gained some. Off in the distances of miles, or years, or experiences are markers. Some are important. Some, are not. They may even be trivial at the time, saving their true power for when you are ready. Some will jump right out at us, while others will appear only in the rear view mirror for a millisecond, and be gone, untranslated, or undiscovered, forever.
The waves are small and rhythmic, lapping at the edges. They take a toll. Slowly, but surely, they take their toll.
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