Waiting for inspiration doesn’t seem to be working too well this morning; I’ve been sitting here staring at the keyboard with a parade of verifiably insane images passing before me, none of which would translate well onto the page, any of which could conceivably get me arrested on obscenity charges.
I suppose after ten or eleven years the well is getting closer to the bottom; not a whole lot of potable liquid left in the reservoir. Undaunted, I am diving in, with the real hope that as I type, some kind of miracle will occur, and witty profundities will start shooting out as if it were a jackpot in a literary one-armed bandit.
I suppose it is also apropos that what has come to mind isn’t in the same neighborhood as profound; hell, it’s probably a completely different planet. I find myself growing anxious, chewing on my lower lip, cursing under my breath, and casting wildly about for a subject. Any subject. Even a dumb one would be welcome today.
My brow is beginning to sweat, my blood-pressure is rising, and I’m beginning to feel the onset of a full-blown psychotic episode, courtesy of my PTSD, a less-than welcome integral part of my overall make-up that unfortunately thrives on this kind of self-inflected stress. It’s an insidious thing, never seems to be there at all, until the right conditions are in place, at which time I am treated to all the wonderful chaos and angst that accrues during one of these episodes. Rather than allow it to continue, I will now note that I’ve managed to babble my way through two complete paragraphs. This will do….it will have to do, as I am now done with this for the day….. It certainly took some effort today, so I hope y’all enjoy today’s Pearls….
“Five senses; an incurably abstract intellect; a haphazardly selective memory; a set of preconceptions and assumptions so numerous that I can
never examine more than minority of them – never become conscious of them all. How much of total reality can such an apparatus let through?” — C. S. Lewis
“By the time a man realizes that maybe his father was right, he usually has a son who thinks he’s wrong.” — Charles Wadsworth
I hold it true, whate’er befall;
I feel it, when I sorrow most;
‘T is better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.
— Alfred Lord Tennyson (1809-1892)
— In Memoriam, xxvii, 1850, stanza 4, line 27
“Ask of friends only what is honorable.” — Marcus Tullius Cicero (106-43 B.C.)
Calvin: “People think it must be fun to be a super genius, but they don’t realize how hard it is to put up with all the idiots in the world.”
Hobbes: “Isn’t your pants’ zipper supposed to be in the front?”
— Bill Watterson, “Calvin and Hobbes”
“No matter where you go, there you are.” — Buckaroo Banzai, Buckaroo Banzai – Across the 8th Dimension
Indeed…..and here we are. Y’all try to have a good day, and take care out there……
Sometimes I sits and thinks,
I just sits.