Lo's blog: "Write"

When I was young, free and living in the country, I would walk slowly along the roadside. My fingers would play with the weeds and reeds that grew along the trail home. Some were thin and tall and had small buds that sprouted three quarters of the way up them. My fingers would pinch the weed and they would slide to the tip and in my hand I would hold the buds. "Hello baby buds." I would whisper. So close that my lips almost touched the tips. I would smile and sometimes laugh and sprinkle them on the winds. These were my favorite. The winds are sweeter there. Innocent. Fresh with hay and newly turned dirt. My feet would tap on the gravel, slide through the grasses and it seemed, to me, as if I had all of the time in the world to walk home. The sun never set before I reached it. Dinner was never served before I sat down in front of it. And TIME, it seemed bowed down before me as if i was the queen of tides. The center of the earth. Now that I am grown. And responsible for myself and my children. Time, it seems races beside me. Its engines revved and ready to trip me up and pass me by. There is never enough time for Bills to be payed on time, court lines to be waited in. There is never enough time to call everyone that I must and pickup all of the prescriptions. Time races and passes and chugs right on ahead. It smiles and sneers and knows that I need it to slow, and stop and let me catch my breath. if but for a moment. A ray of hope has shined on me. A small one. That could be huge if i am patient. Today I breathe a bit easier. I smile and hope, cross my fingers and wish. I walked Melanie out to her husbands big rig, parked on my small street. She smiles and issues orders of support. Hugs me and ingests me with love. And as I walk back into my home. I see on the side of my walkway A thin tall weed. With buds three quarters of the way up. And without thinking I pinch its body and slide my fingers to the tip, until in my palm I hold the buds. "hello baby buds." I whisper and smile.. And as I turn to walk into my home, I sprinkle them into the winds.

Jack Kerouac -What is the feeling when you're driving away from people, and they recede on the plain till you see their specks dispersing? -it's the too huge world vaulting us, and it's good-bye. But we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies. -the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace things, but burn like fabulous roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue center light pop and everybody goes "AWWW!" -The one thing that we yearn for in our living days, that makes us sigh and groan and undergo sweet nauseas of all kinds, is the remembrance of some lost bliss that was probably experienced in the womb and can only be reproduced (though we hate to admit it) in death. -All human beings are also dream beings. Dreaming ties all mankind together. (Book of Dreams) -Great things are not accomplished by those who yield to trends and fads and popular opinion. -Maybe that's what life is...a wink of the eye and winking stars

"Have you seen those fountains?" I look up at her from where I am layed out. My head resting on a soft and cushy armrest. Which fountains are you talking abooout?! Sheesh. I have seen many fountains in my life. Ancient ones, crappy ones... little teeny ones in doctors offices..." My voice trails off and I look up at the ceiling. "Specifity please." Is that even a word?" She questions, biting at her lip and looking at me. "I have no idea.It just fit." I sigh and sit up "WHICH fountains are you meaning." She looks startled. "OH!" and she sits forward in her flowered wingback chair. "The ones in the dentist offices..." "Well...okay..Yes i know those fountains. Would you like one? Because Im broke." She laughs and sits back again in her chair. When she laughs she looks younger, as Im sure everyone must. A small fountain that sits upon a tabletop? "It is like a heart." She seems proud of herself. "Mmmhmmm" I murmer thinking about brownies. "The liquid inside is always replenished...why is that?" she questions....Like Im 5. "Weeeeeel that would be because there is a tube ya see and the tube sucks the liquid to the top once it reaches the bottom. I am only 65 percent certain of that since I have never seen a fountain close up." "Laureen." She states. "What." I stare. And then I add "I forget why you are supposed to be wise...just now. I forgot it, with all the talk of tabletop fountains." She sighs at me. "You heart will always replenish. It will always fill again with love for others." My eyebrow goes up. "Like a tabletop fountain?" "Precicely." she beams "So my heart has a tube that sucks up love at the bottom and squirts it back to the top then?" I lean forward, prop my chin in my palms and look at her. "Are you saying that my heart sucks?" She changes the subject instead of answering my very serious question. "When did you laugh last?" I squirmed "I dunno." "You know." "Last night I laughed. Hard and snorty. It was the first time in weeks I am sure..... " "Good. Why did you laugh." I smiled "Because...it was simply too hard not too."