Showing posts with label Musings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Musings. Show all posts

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

Tuesday



My Yellow Pad

Bob Petersen


My little yellow pad,

You are so rad.

You record my dreams,

and deliver the scenes.

You have no eyes,

but you've seen.

You Hold True,

but can be read.

I trust you

with the thoughts in my head.

Every page is new,

An unknown voyage lay ahead.

A true friend in deed,

You are there, whenever I need.

My little yellow pad,

You are so rad.



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Allow me to compose myself (whew). That one took a lot out of me my followers. I sit here, you know, and contemplate how the brain works. Because for a moment, there could be no words in it, but then I focus, you know, and all of a sudden there are words. Even vivid colors and, you know, dance moves.

I'm not, you know, talking Dance, Dance, Revolution dance moves, but like Spanish Flamenco dance moves. Like Spanish, you know, from Spain. Not Spanish as in Mexican, you know, or Argentinian. Perhaps some Argentinian.

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"You're not making any sense. That's what makes this difficult. Are you purposefully. . . . "

"Sense is only what you make of it. You have your paradigm, and I have mine. You know there isn't much time left. This monster is ravaging my innards. I don't believe I've caused much for alarm."

"Perhaps. You know it's not just you though. I have my family to think about and care for. It's hard, I know I don't have to complain to you about hardships, but . . . "

"Do you hear that? Bells."




Monday, December 1, 2008

Wha - Wha???? Haroomp!! Balderdash and the Like.


  1. I was wondering if I were really able to make a difference.
  2. That's all.
  3. I mean, I'm just a small boy, from a small family, from a small town.
  4. That's all.
  5. What would constitute a difference, really?
  6. Was that meant to be rhetorical?
  7. Will I only speak in question-form?
  8. Possibly.
  9. Moving oN.



    I found that the softer you speak, the less you are taken seriously. No matter how profound the subject matter.


So I was reading an article about the most self-indulgent albums produced. Usually when it comes to an artist, most of it is self-indulgent, because they understand the matter, and it's meant for them. The rest of us are left to either take it or leave it, that's all. If someone finds something of value, or interesting about it, then that's fine. But if you don't get it, then you're an idiot. That's all. Every village needs an idiot. Soothing reminders from Mother, on just how hopeless it really was.


THE LOUDER YOU SPEAK, THE MORE YOU ARE UNABLE TO LISTEN.NO MATTER HOW PROFOUND THE REBUTTAL IS.

I realized, that perhaps I should have made a change. It may have proved to be, (what's the word?) ironic - (not quite) substantial - (eww, no) decisive (possibly -) in nature, and helped to drive home a point that does not need to be made.



I FOUND THAT THE SOFTER YOU SPEAK, THE LESS YOU ARE TAKEN SERIOUSLY. NO MATTER HOW PROFOUND THE SUBJECT MATTER.

Just musing.


The louder you speak, the more you are unable to listen. No matter how profound the rebuttal is.



"So - where do we go from here?"

"How about we take another stroll around the block?"

"That'd be nice."