An old man loses his horse before coming to a mountain pass. He decides to continue on foot. Horses come and go. You can’t lose focus on your goal. He’ll get a new horse later on, further on.
Stu, who drove the Zamboni at the Memorial Rink, once had a No.2 pencil shoved up his ass. It was mostly in fun. Stu by his very nature made himself a target for such fun marketed by country boy mob rule.
The cool water runs over the smooth rocks in the mountain stream. It has been this way for thousands, tens of thousands of years. The water has become more acidic over time, but not so much that anyone would ever notice.
A president becomes deranged. The people think this can’t really be happening. No one thought the escalation would continue. No one thought it would ever go this far. We have a very weak hold on history.
The dog lies on her blanket. Her snoring interrupts my reading. She’s old and reluctant. I close the book and then my eyes and have a nap too.
I used to be interested in transactional analysis. I used to be into 50s jazz. I used to smoke cigarettes. I used to put mousse in my hair. I used to separate the world into black and white, good and bad, like and don’t like. I didn’t understand how grey, how multifaceted, how nuanced things are.
I’ve never paid for cable TV. I once found a wallet with $200 in it. My relationship with money is that there is always enough and never a need to flash it around. Money only impacts how hard I try.
I’ve become more resiliant over time. Nothing can get me wound up anymore. I’m working on being brutally honest. I’m working on thinking before I speak and then saying the second thing that comes to mind. I’m working on finding a new horse.
Last updated 6 days ago