Postcards from Nowhere

Some Haikus

I like haikus, they're short and sweet. A haiku is only 17 syllables, 5-7-5. It is a traditional Japanese poetry.

Here are a few I wrote:

New Year

A golden handsel
For good luck on this new day
Do not forget us

Shakespeare's excuse

Damn! Oh, spite! Oh, Hell!
Why must this happen to me?
'Tis demons, it is!

Life's questions

To find your answer
Don't use a Rosetta stone
Look into your heart

Creator's Finger Pool

Floating petals up
Into the large blue welkin
Angel's tears become

Tea Time

Feathers and silk hats
Raspberry tea and china cups
Chin-wag and biscuits

The Dean's Fall

thrasonical cries
tumbling numbers from it
hideaway after

Season's Comings

a seed planted deep
rich, black soil and water drops
crinkle and crack corn

Christmas Lights ~ An unhappy holiday story

"It's been 361 days, twelve hours, and-" the young woman peered at the institutional clock on the wall, "-and two minutes since I last had a drink."

Nodding, the man across the table wrote the figure in his notebook. The woman sat silent, flattening out a crease from her shirt, waiting for him to finish before continuing.

"I stopped last Christmas. I wanted to remember the date, but when you do something like I did, you never forget."

Interrupting her, a nurse brought a paper cup of water over to the table.
"Would you like some coffee, sir?"
The man replied with a shake of his head, and the nurse smiled in return before leaving.

"I don't know why I did it. Well, I know why I stopped drinking; they made me. Well… no, I would have stopped after what I did." She let out a faint sigh. The room was quiet except a few muted voices and the creak of the nurse's cart, but for the woman, all she heard was the scratching of the man's pencil taking down all of her words.

"Where did you say you were going to publish this?"

"Hmm?" The man looked up at her. "Publish?" He cleared his throat, "I'm writing a book."
"Who would want to read my story?"
"Lots of people."
The girl shrugged her slender shoulders.

"So I guess you'd like to know why I started drinking?" She looked at the man, but he didn't look up, he kept on writing.

"I was thirteen, been in junior high for a while and it wasn't working out. I had the common syndrome of teenage girls; they always want to be popular."

Her head turned away toward the window, her eyes lowered.

"I had heard about a party going on at one of the girl's houses. Mostly older kids were going to be there, but James- James had been nice to me in math class- he was going to be there. At the time I figured he was my friend. He certainly didn't hate me like some of the kids did anyway.

So I put on my best dress, teased my hair like the older girls used to do then, and I even stuffed my training bra." She let out a snort, the man looked up. "That was a big mistake."
He went back to writing.

"So it was a holiday party. The girl hosting was Jewish, but she didn't want anyone to know, so she stuffed the menorah in the closet and brought out the mistletoe."

"She got hit by a car not too long after… lack of faith is what I say- but I'm getting off topic. So anyway, the party… the party- I figured there would be "egg nog", but there wasn't. Only vodka, but I couldn't just not drink, you know. I had to have a couple. Well, it ended up I couldn't hold down the first." She wrinkled her petite nose, it smelled vomit again.

"But you know, the kids pushed another one onto me. Even James was encouraging me. They found it fun, the bastards." Her hand shook while she took a sip from the paper cup.

"So they got me drunk. Didn't take much like I said.

When I'm drunk, I'm a fun drunk. For a while anyway.

So I figured, all the hot guys giving me attention, let's go stand under the mistletoe a see how many kisses I can get." She rolled her eyes toward the ceiling. "So I pranced over there. You could see a few couples here and there that had started under the doorway, but were now straddled all over the furniture and leaning against the walls. I remember giggling at the sight. Anyway, a couple guys were right behind me. So I stood there with my eyes closed and puckered my lips when it came. It was a warm, wet kiss. It was pleasant. I really did enjoy it, except his mouth tasted like an ashtray, but I didn't care because he didn't stop -plus I was too drunk. Alcohol always helps in those sort of situations."

"We rapidly joined the couples on the couch. I had my head against the arm with him on top of me. I could tell he was really enjoying himself, and I was happy that I was pleasing him. But then he put his hand up my bra. Suddenly he was not pleased and neither was I."

"Pulling out a handful of Kleenex, he started to laugh. 'What? Thought you might need to blow your nose?' Then he pulled a friend of his off a girl that was next to us and stuffed the tissues in his face. 'Look at this! Little Annie needs her tissues!' Of course I started to cry. What girl wouldn't? So they threw them back at me. James had by then come out of the kitchen, lipstick all over his face. He took one look at me and started crying himself, crying with laughter."

"Within seconds I was out of there, running down the street home. I dreaded going back to school in January, but I couldn't go telling my mother why I didn't want to. If she had known that I had been at a party with guys and booze... boy, she would have skinned me alive!"

Suddenly, out of no where, the woman made an upward thrust into the air, bringing the imaginary knife slowly down as if cutting into a carcass. She then realized what she was doing and quickly dropped her hands into her lap and started rubbing the hem of her skirt. Sheepishly she raised her eyes up to look at the man. He was staring at her, his mouth slightly open. She frowned, he pushed a lock of hair out of his eyes.

"Please go on."

"Yeah, okay," she looked back down at her hands. They looked much older than the rest of her. "It was all of the sneaking off to parties that made me so bad. I figured that if I could get away with it, I deserved the life-"

"-But, Miss Johnson-"
"Call me Anne."
"Anne- why did you keep on going to parties? I thought you would have learned your lesson after the first. I mean- I would have figured after that, you wouldn't want to go."

"Yeah," she sighed, "but I had fun besides the fact. Plus James had asked me to one of his. He had just broken up with his girlfriend, and I had fallen back in love with him. Well, love to a fourteen year old, that is." They both smirked, each thinking of past "loves".

"Anyway, his party went much better than the last one, and all the parties after, but every time Christmas would come around, I got depressed.

One year it got really bad; it was my sophomore year, James' senior. We'd been going on and off again since his first party. I always shared whatever I had with him. That year I gave him half a pound of cocaine for a gift." The man's jaw dropped. "I had snatched it off a sleeping bum, but that doesn't matter. What does matter is that he got me high. We screwed around a while, then he dropped a bombshell on me. He told me he had gotten Becky pregnant. Becky was a bitch that never let me down for my mistake at that first party. Every Christmas she would stuff my locker with Kleenex... I always did hate her, and James knew it." The woman's fists were clenched holding her hem.

"So, I threw him off of me, pulled my sweater on and got out of the car without my shoes. We were about half a mile from the river, and I decided I was going to jump off the bridge into it. You know, just like in that movie, 'It's a Wonderful Life'. I had never watched the end of that movie, never learned the sappy lesson, but I figured the reporters would have a fun time comparing me to the guy in that movie."

"So I did it. I jumped off the bridge into the icy river."

The man's mouth opened to ask a question, his pencil laying silent on the floor.

"You're wondering why James didn't stop me." The guy nodded. "He was too high. He was chasing after me, but he slipped on some ice in the street, hit his head, was in the hospital for a week. -But back to me in the river.

It's obvious I survived it since I'm sitting here now. I had floated down the river for about ten minutes before I tried to get God to take me, but he didn't want me yet. He let me sleep though, until I was found by a man fishing along the bank. He saw my pink skirt and my white limbs. Later he told the reporters I looked like 'a fallen angel, just had missed her landing point.' He was a funny old man.

Anyway, he waded into the water, scooped me up, and put me in his pickup. He later told me he drove 65 all the way to the hospital. I sort of doubt he did, there are a lot of cops in that neighborhood...

I slept in a coma for nine days. When I woke, the first thing I saw clearly was Mary. Mary of Jesus, in her flaming glory. She was beautiful. It was then that I knew God was trying to tell me something. I was supposed to live for Him. He had even granted me my wish I wouldn't loose any of my fingers or toes. God was wonderful." The woman then crossed herself, staring at the ceiling.

She looked back at the man. "The doctors told me I had to stay for a while longer after I woke up. I didn't care. That hospital was built by God. I spent most of my time speaking to the chaplain. I wanted to get closer to God.

My mother-"

"Anne, it is time for lunch." The nurse had returned.
"I don't want any."
"Okay, but what about your guest?"
"I'm fine, thank you."
The nurse walked out of the room.

"Where was I? Oh, yeah. So the doctors had told my mother I had been high and had been screwing someone. They suspected suicide, but the bruising on my temple made it look like it may have been an accident or murder attempt. The police questioned me, I played dumb. Told them I didn't remember anything."

"What was the bruise from?"
"I hit my head while James and I were in the car."
"Oh."

"So after my mother found all this out, she pulled me out of the high school and enrolled me in the Catholic school. I was happy she did, I didn't want to see the Bitch or James or anyone ever again. I only wanted to see Mary, Jesus, and the Heavenly Father."

"I went through school, getting A's and staying sober. I only drank at communion and Christmas -but I never got drunk. I was happy, even found a Christian boyfriend. Only problem with him was he was "saving himself" while I wanted him then and there.

But we graduated school together, everything was happy. We were going to college together; I was sure I had found true love, but nope. He was entering the ministry, and guess what? He wanted to be a Catholic priest. The marriage idea was flying out the stained-glass window. And here's all the irony of it: he told me at Christmas.

Christmas, the celebration of Christ's birth, had come to bite me in the ass again. We both dropped out that spring semester. He went to a different school, I simply dropped out. There was not much for me to do.

I started drinking a beer every Friday night at the bar, and if a guy would buy me a second, I'd drink a second. During the week I would work, during the weekends I would work some more. I got myself a nice apartment close to the cathedral, bought myself some nice clothes. I decided I had better start settling down. I dated a couple guys from the college. They were all really nice in and out of bed, but no one could satisfy me like James. I had been thinking this for a while when in strode the devil himself." She took another sip from the cup, hands steady now.

"We ran into each other at the corner grocery, of all places. He was clutching a package of diapers. We got chatting. He had married Becky a couple of months after the first baby was born. They had three by now, all boys. He said he was happy, working at a factory downtown making ten bucks an hour. Becky was a stay-at-home mom. He said he'd like to talk to me some more, but Becky was waiting for the diapers." The woman paused for a moment and slumped back in her chair, he left hand resting on the table.

"Then a song came on over the loud speakers. It was 'Silent Night'. It was the song we first made love to. Silly how you hold onto sentimental things, and what a ridiculous song to sin to, huh? Anyway, he invited me over to his place for Christmas eve.

So a couple of days later I got all dolled up. Put on a nice pink dress, nothing too revealing, and drove by the directions James had given me. After a while I found it. His house was huge. There was no way they could afford this house on James' income. I still don't know how they got it, but anyway...

James answered the door, he said some sort of compliment on how I looked. It was all polite, just like in the store. Old lovers are usually like that. I was two steps inside when I saw Becky. She was chasing the kids up the stairs, 'Santa won't come while you're awake!' She looked like a mother hen, fat like one too. She said hello, smiled, and continued the chase.

James then led me into the living room and offered me a drink. I refused, told him I was waiting for dinner. We talked a while, mostly about myself. It wasn't long before Becky came back.

She took us to the dining room. The table was laden with food, way more than three people could eat. She was clearly trying to impress me. There was garland around the windows, candles on the table, even a little tree on the buffet.

Everything was going well so far. James had gotten the hint I was not drinking much anymore, but Becky hadn't. She kept on trying to refill my wine glass, ignoring James' hints. Finally, she was just about to fill it once more, when I jerked it away, but she was already pouring. Red wine, Christ's blood to us, was spilled in my lap.

James' eyes went wide, he jumped out of his chair to help, but Becky- she stood there and smirked. 'Would you like a tissue?' James froze.

That was when I flipped, as they say. I splashed the wine from my goblet into her face, but that was not enough. All of the rage from my past ten Christmases was ready to erupt. Becky, hair dripping with wine, gaped at me, her mouth opening and closing like a carp out of water. This was my time to take back what was mine!" The woman was leaning forward across the table. She and the man were only inches apart.

"I snatched up one of the candlesticks, knocking over another, and threw it at her. Her hair went up in flames! She started running around like an idiot!

James was a statue. It was not long before the curtains and garland had caught. The whole room was ablaze and all I could do was laugh.

Quickly though, I became frightened. What had I done? I ran out of the room, slamming the door shut, grabbing the nearest chair, and wedging it. James and his bitch were going to burn.

I ran out of the house and crawled into my car. Laughing nervously, I sat there, watching the house burn. It was when I heard the screams of the children that I began to cry. Lambs of the Lord were being slaughtered. But then I remembered the Lord was taking them to a better place. I was happy for them. Even though in His eyes they were bastards, He forgives the innocent.

After a while the smoke consumed the street; it became a blanket, wrapped around me. I feel into slumber." Once more, she leaned back in her chair.

"Then I woke up here, and a year later you came wanting to hear my story." She looked him in the eyes and then glanced at the notebook. "Sir, you've stopped writing."

He looked down at the open notebook. Only the first page had been scrawled on.

"How will you remember?" They sat in silence for a moment.

The man exhaled slowly and replied, "Anne, you already know. 'When you do something like I did, you never forget.' There is no way I will forget, Anne."

The nurse had returned. "Sir, Miss Johnson needs to be going." She smiled at the man, Anne frowned and went back to rubbing the hem of her skirt. "Thank you for visiting her. She doesn't get too many visitors. Anne, say 'thank you'."

Anne mumbled something.
"Yes. Well. Thank you, Anne. Maybe I'll come visit again sometime."
The nurse chimed in, "Yes, that would be nice. Here's your coat, sir."
"Yes. Well. Good-bye." He started walking to the door, leaving Anne alone at the table with the nurse.
Then the smiling nurse waved, "Sir! Have a Merry Christmas!"

3000 words

Not very many, but so much all the same.

Read my 100 words for November.

100 words

Today was my first 100 words. Ama was the one that got me interested in it. Thanks, Ama. This is forcing me to write at least every day now. 100 words is quite interesting. Members write 100 words, and only 100 words, every day. You cannot write ahead, and you cannot write behind. You must do it every day.

At the end of the month, my entries will all be batched together here.

This is today's:
2003/11/01 10:37:18

The common thought is that there are four dimensions: length, height, depth, and time. In today's society though it would seem as if there are five. The fifth one, I would have to say, is money. Money makes the world go 'round. The world would figuratively stand still if it was not for money. Where would society be if it was not for the ancient Libyans creating the idea of coinage? Back then, as in today, money could buy you anything. Life, death, power- anything. There is only one thing that I can think of that money cannot buy- rebirth.

Greece in Rome: The Impact of Stoicism

Anyone want to read my history paper? It's pretty interesting. It's about how Greek philosophy inluenced Rome and the modern Western World. Only 1200 words.... You can read it in the extended entry.

Greece in Rome:
The Impact of Stoicism
As the Roman empire grew, the cultures of the assimilated nations filtered into Rome, impacting daily life in ways that influenced humanity throughout the western world to the present day. The culture that most captured the Roman minds was that of Greece, specifically of the Hellenistic age. Roman citizens became fascinated with anything that was Greek. Before this cultural revolution, Roman citizens used to eat very simple meals, particularly in the morning and at noon. Following Greek example, their meals became large, lavish, and rich. Formerly, Romans had bathed infrequently, until they made bathing into a leisure and social event at the new Greek-style baths. Roman generals sent art and libraries from Greece to Rome, and these new libraries brought new scientific ideas, especially in geography and medicine. Greek teachers and tutors flowed into Rome to teach anyone that would listen, and Roman orators and artists started using the Greek form for models and inspiration. Starting in the third century B.C., Greek philosophy took hold of Rome, and introduced new ideas, sparked a literary revolution, and moreover brought inner controversy to Rome. Of all the schools of philosophy, the one that created the most impact was Stoicism.
The Roots of Stoicism
Sometime near 300 B.C., Zeno of Citium established the Stoic school in Athens. Stoicism is named after the Greek stoa, "a long building divided along its center by spacious roofed corridor that allowed people to walk while enjoying the air but avoiding the sun and rain" (McKay et al. 81). It is believed that it was under the stoa that Zeno and his followers most often discussed their ideas. The keystone of the philosophy is the belief that natural laws apply to all human beings and that everyone, slave and free, are essentially equal because all have the capacity to reason. Stoics taught that "universal principles, or natural law, underlay the universe" (Perry et al. 135), and everyone is responsible and are capable of regulating their own lives.
Stoicism in Rome
Romans valued the Stoic attention to "self-discipline and the molding of character according to worthy standards" (Perry et al. 135), and they wove these Stoic ideas into the already established Roman culture. Marcus Tullius Cicero (106-43 B.C.), a dominant Roman statesman and orator, was a great advocate of Stoicism. He believed that Nature was the Law, and that Nature "commands what ought to be done and forbids the opposite" (Perry et al. 110). Cicero held that all men and God are equal in many ways because they both are ruled by natural law and reason. He additionally believed that reason is the only thing that raises human beings above the animals for it enables human beings to "prove and disprove, to discuss problems, and to come to conclusions" (Perry et al. 111). Cicero concluded that "there is no human being of any race who, if he finds a guide, cannot attain to virtue" (Perry et al. 111).
Luius Annaeus Seneca (4 B.C.-A.D. 65), was another supporter of Stoicism. Born in Corduba (Cordova), Spain, into a highly educated family, was sent to Rome for school. There he learned of Stoicism and became a follower. He blended Stoicism with daily Roman life, mostly arguing that many Roman common practices were wrong. In a letter to his friend Lucilius, he disputed that the gladiatorial games were "downright murder" (Perry et al. 136), and in another letter to Lucilius, he expressed that he believed that slaves are "comrades [… and] humble friends" (Perry et al. 136) and are actually "fellow-servants" (Perry et al. 136) because he felt they were equal to him. In another essay by Seneca he gave advice on child rearing; having the opinion that children should never be spoiled or given any special treatment, not even excessive praise. He believed that if a child did something that deserved praise he should be "encouraged but not elated" (Perry et al. 137). Seneca's writings were an example of what made some Romans dislike the influence of Greek philosophy.
A dissenting view of Stoicism
Marcus Cato (234 B.C.-149 B.C.), more commonly called Cato the Elder, was one of the most famous antagonists of Greek philosophy. He was a talented and energetic plebeian that served in some of the highest offices in Rome. Cato was a paterfamilias and cherished the old customs of Roman life, even "consistently imitated the old ways" (McKay et al. 135). Cato was the average Roman for his time, but he acted in a defensive way when it came to Greek philosophy. Cato believed that Greek philosophy was completely corrupting the youth and diluting what made Rome. He was apprehensive that youth "should be diverted that way [(enjoying Greek literature)], and so should prefer the glory of speaking well" (Perry et al. 112) over being able to fight well and having the desire to serve in the Roman army. He was sure that the end of Rome was going to come because of the thoughts of the enemy, but it seemed that few shared Cato's opinion. The majority of Romans embraced Greek philosophy.
Greece Helps Rome Find Its Identity
With the continuing influence of Greek culture, Rome flourished and prospered for an additional six centuries. Before the Hellenistic revolution in Rome, Roman literature was scarce. With Greek works at hand, Roman writers used the Greek compositions as models when they wrote literary pieces of their own. Eventually the pieces evolved into a style that was truly unique to Rome. A similar pattern occurred with sculpture and other arts. Roman orators also adopted Greek styles and in turn, made them their own. If it was not for Greece's original thinking, Rome may have not had much documentation of its existence.
Ancient Greece Influences the Western World
The remnants of Ancient Rome continue to influence civilizations two millennia later in many ways. The Apostle Paul, a leader of early Christians, was familiar with Greek philosophy. He even traveled to Athens to discuss the new religion with Stoic philosophers there. He often proclaimed that it was the mission of Christianity to make mankind united and equal. This vision of universalism through religion echoes some of the thoughts of Stoicism.
The influence of Greek philosophy is also evident in the writings of America's Founding Fathers. It is known that the Founding Fathers "studied Greek federalism very seriously in the hope that the Greek past could help guide the American future" (McKay et al. 85), and the concepts of America's democracy are based on the democracies of Athens and Rome. The Stoic ideals of humanitarianism and equality are apparent in a statement found in the American Declaration of Independence: "all men are created equal" and are included in the foundation of the American Constitution. These concepts reverberate throughout the modern world because many of the democracies formed since the founding of the United States of America have used the American Constitution as a model for their own. Being two of the major influences in the modern Western World, Christianity and democracy's roots in Stoicism shows that the arrival of Greek philosophy in Rome must have made a great impact in daily life. Just as Greece did with Rome, civilizations continue to influence each other and Greek philosophy continues to resounds through history.

Newspaper article

Nope, it wasn't on the front page. Thanks for reminding me, Ethan. It was on the second page though. Not too bad. They edited it a bunch, but I'm okay with it. You can read it here. I actually saw the artist the same day it some out so I gave him a copy. I hope he likes it.

I have another two photo assignments this week. I hope I can get them done....

Arnold is well connected

Warning: This is a theory, not fact.

Many people are arguing that Arnold was elected only because of his high connections. I have to say, it looks suspicious. I believe NBC got him elected. His announcement of candidacy on the Tonight Show with Jay Leno is the second highest rated night on television this year. NBC seemed to have given him more coverage than most other networks. Jay Leno seemed to have been a big supporter, he was at the party after the election, plus he made TONS more jokes about Arnold than any other candidate (even the porn star [maybe noone could remember her name] or Gary Coleman). I believe the extra coverage of the scandal didn't hurt either. If it affected votes at all, it increased them for Arnold. No man was about to let a woman tell him how to vote.

So, to the General Electric (GE) part.
Well, GE owns NBC, NBC got Arnold elected, so what is Arnold going to for GE? He's going to give them California's electricity problem to fix.

GE already has over 600 Megawatts of wind energy turbines installed in California, that is about one-third of all turbines installed in CA. So if Arnold allowed them to take over all of the wind

Are you well connected? You may want to double think the question

In the past few years it would seem, more and more of us are not being informed of things. The media is letting us down. The reason? They want to. More and more marriages of media companies are happening. It used to be that there were restrictions, (the FCC) but because of lobbyists and judicial turned backs, those are dead in the water. Companies are on the rampage, doing whatever they want.

October 8th, General Electric (National Broadcasting Company [NBC]) announced that it was merging with the entertainment part of Vivendi Universal (Universal Studios, USA channel, Sci-fi channel, Trio channel, Newsworld International, etc.) so it will be NBC-Universal. This is WAY out of line when it comes to the law, but has anyone noticed? Not really. So does this mean Bugs Bunny and the NBC peacock will be going to bed together? Something close to it, I would imagine.

Who is telling you what to listen to on the radio?
A Bill Moyer commentary on media coruption

Sometimes I think if it wasn't for the Internet and PBS, I wouldn't know anything.

September Skies

Today I was driving down the road, flanked by cornfields on either side. It was early in the morn and the sun had not fully risen. I drove toward the east and watched the September sky fill with a brilliant pink. On top of the pink was a cloud of monotone blue-grey. Connecting the two skies was a jet trail; the brilliant white trail of a human creation, a line between two worlds.

Then on the horizon were two grain silos. Twin silos, side by side, holding the essence of America's past commerce. As these silos came closer, scenes started to play in my mid. Airplanes and smoke, human creations and destruction, shivers that run down the spine. Then a short distraction came. A police car passed me, his lights blaring until he became swallowed by the horizon.

I stared at the sky, the layers, and the remnants until they all changed. The pink turned to blood red, and the jet trail pulled the two skies together until the red had been eaten by the grey. Foreboding was the sky, a doom to come it seemed, but then within minutes all was dine again.

The sky had cleared for the sun was up. Blue filled it, with a sprinkling of white, but clouds were not the only thing that accompanied the heavens. A single airplane flew across the sky, holding many people. I did not know their destination. So the world asked with me: where are we going?

Heroin is not the same as Heroine

It's about an "A" student that believes the world has let her down, so she decides to rebel. Thus her life becomes terible. The novel is about her recovery through a stranger. So far it is 1000 words. Not very many, but I've just started it today. I think it is going to be pretty good.

Not much besides that and classes has been going on. My life is all of a sudden becoming very boring....

Do Not Forget Glory

This is the painting I took to the fair.

Discarded Treasures

I see his lone, silent figure. It blends into the sea. Blue and khaki, his favorite colors. His back is to me. I know he does not know I watch. A flock of gulls fly over him, his face looking up at them. He most likely is pondering something about them. Their flight path, their destination, their reason for leaving their roost in the first place...
He then stoops down to examine something. Most likely a shell or a piece of sea glass. He straightens again, looks at it for a few moments, and then flings the found treasure into the waves of the surf, only so that it will eventually wash up on the shore again.
He turns his body, walking up parallel with the ocean. His hands are in his pockets, and he kicks at stones in his way as if they really were a nuisance.
He stoops again, tossing away a second treasure. He only stopped for a second this time before he continued on.
He climbs the sea-whipped wooden stairs up the grassy crag. He now is at the same elevation as me, but he still does not notice.
A couple more gulls take flights as he passes them. This time he does not watch them fly away.
I wish that he would come to me so that we may retreat into the warmth. In the home, into the arms, into the existence. I know he will not though. We don't always get a second chance to throw our treasures back out to sea.