Baby Sunflower

 

Purgatory

 

I find it hard to believe that this will all come to an end.  I expect my thoughts to go on forever.  Yes, I know my body will give out and become one with the universe, but this continual stream of thoughts and ideas, how could those possibly draw to a close.  They seem to have a life of their own. 

So far, they have been fed by observation and creativity, so even if death removes observation, the spark of creativity should not extinguish.  It has been built upon a lifetime of randomness, silliness and stupidity, of which there is an endless supply.  

I expect the frustration will be in the absence of an outlet.  Once gone, where will I post such nuggets.  I doubt the afterlife has Blog capabilities.  There will be no Letters to the Editor, and no books to write.  Things will just fester.  I’ll have some grand epiphany and no one to share it with.

 

 

 zc

Sacred Navajo Container

 

It is said to contain the spirit of the great buffalo.

Held only by the Chief, with a translation identified as,

Keep away from children.  Not sold in stores, and

Void where prohibited.

 

 "t’áá shikaadééł doo shił yázhí. 

Bad Advice

 

They said this makes an excellent cleaner.

Now this is clean

but it no longer works.

Random Thought #511

 

Your eyes are only a small part of seeing.  It’s your conscious being that does most of the heavy lifting.  It is that inner knowing that tells the real story, that sees the fake smile or hears the backhanded compliment.  It is that part of you that helps you to navigate society.  The ability to see people how they really are, that is what gets you through life.  The trick is to not become cynical in the process. 

Looking past the flaws takes practice, and seeing your own is sometimes referred to as self-actualization.  Popeye said it best, “I am what I am.”

 

 

 zc

 

 

No Known Cure

 

It is silliness that grows on trees.  You can’t see it but it’s there.  Often, even the slightest breeze blows it off and it gets on you.  You can be just walking along Main Street and suddenly you’ll start paying attention to how your shoelaces flop around as you walk.  You’ll find it funny and want to point it out to a passing stranger, but don’t.  Right away they will see you’ve got silly on you and they’ll back away. 

There is something about business attire that seems to repel silliness.  Not sure what it is, but businesspeople have the ability to walk right through a cloud of it and not be affected.  Although, you can wear your best Sunday clothes and for whatever reason it can stick to you.  You’ll be sitting there in church and for no reason get the giggles.  It just happens.  And forget about fighting it, it will only get worse.

 

 

zc

A Writer's Playground

 

There are no swing-sets and no fences around the farthest edges of my mental playground.  It has very soft ground, made up of sometimes sand and sometimes leaves, depending on my mood.  Where monkey-bars would ordinally be is a jumble of punctuation, still suitable for climbing upon.

Tall statues of nouns cast their shadows across inactive verbs, who lay resting until needed.  It is forever summer with a slight breeze blowing from East to West.  I don’t know why.  Words grow wild here and there, ready to be picked at a moment’s notice.  Misspellings are the weeds, often all to prevalent.  Occasionally a run-on sentence will trip me up, like a vine stretching across the path.  Or, depending on the position of the sun, tenses might change when, in fact, they shouldn’t.  It’s one of those things I just need to watch for.

It's not all fun and games you know.

zc