Pieces of Existence

So much to rejoice about, be happy for, and stand up and cheer naked in the streets dripping in chocolate syrup singing Mammy (no, that is not an ethnic joke, get a grip on your panties), but we must ask why - e - e - e so sad? We can explore many myriads of reasons for sadness, the state of the world, for instance, starving children, greedy politicians, trailer trash bigots, arrogant insensitive selfish sadistic bullies, users and abuses and the one tenth of one percent who own everything, including the rest of us. The poor stray cats and dogs and people on the streets, don't you ever open your eyes or travel outside of your gilded bubbles?

Did you ever wander The Facebook Pages? So much tragedy. If that's too much babbling, you can, if you want to, find just the links. So many pages, so little time, aye?

There is much more, but if you haven't clicked on a link yet, what's the difference, right?

There is wonder and passion and drama and nonsense magic and purpose to all this.

Purpose!

And hope, there's always hope.

H O P E !

(I hope).

Once upon a time...

So then, when all else fails, after being almost metaphorically pleasantly distracted by A Fish Called Wanda and all the many memories it brings forth from the kaleidoscope of mirrors and madness and moonstruck (or was that moosestruck) and random links to whatever and what could have been and the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie that's pretty funny, you know? Then, I look at all these words and ask, would I contact me? I'm just skimming the surface these last few years, they know, they know everything, but what do you expect from someone who opens an individually wrapped plastic fork and things "oh, I better eat a lot, I don't want this fork to go to waste" and what other mushiga bullsugar could you possibly swallow tonight?

Might as well tell Facebook where good ideas and personal mementos and heart felt posts and the news and a world of manipulated shallow people and tons of whatever go to die, but that is not any sort of scientific calculation or some sort of magical mystery miracle (we can hope, right?) but then, what is magic anyway if not just hope of the hopelessly hopefully singing hopelessly hopeful songs to the moon and the stars and believing dreams could really come true if we just stay true to ourselves and awake even if it doesn't make any sense at the time.

Maybe we all need to make a public spectacle of ourselves, even if no one ever sees the vast everything we can be as we pour ourselves out without inhibition or reservations. Be the tree, even if it falls and nobody hears. Somebody hears, they hear. They always hear.

Do you believe in love?

Do you do it?

There is an awful lot of lip service to love (and most anything else) in this world. There's an awful lot of links in this entry that won't be clicked on and that just goes to show. Whatever you think it all means, your shoe fits.

There may be more, here or there, but for now...

nite nite

love you

Narf :)