We can all feel tension on the wire I believe. Those little strands that hold our lives together so tenuously. We never are even concious of them at a day to day level as we drudge on or live happy in our days. We sometimes let them go slack as fishing line in a river only years later to somehow reel it in for contact. And other days we think we are going to cut our hand trying to hold on.
Somehow like spiders we navigate our web of relationships, as the strands move in good times and bad. Often there are many working on the network of our lives, and other times we seem alone working those lines that keep us together are vast and they never may feel the touch of our hands again. That is a hard task but one we can never give up to keep that blend of wires together no matter how thin and scabby.
We all dance on a tightrope of our experiences and our relationships. Try to be wise on the ones you keep and the ones you clip short.
Authors Note: My Mother was in surgery this morning and by all accounts is doing well. But the alagory is the same none the less. Gave me a moment to pause and contemplate relationships we never think will end.
So I went for breakfast the other morning. Great eggs Benidict, the best, greatest. As I was drinking my coffee. Actually the first cups in years. I heard a woman talking about politics, not strange but the passion she had was immense. I was at the counter to pay my bill, and I just went over and hugged her. Not a creepy groping hug but a tender loving hug.
She looked up in bewildered silence and said I was wondering who hugged me. I replied I had heard her speach and thought she needed a hug. I payed my bill and exited.
A Canadian Icon died today, that gravel voiced poet. Who dared us to stay till closing time, prodded to the future, and made us want it darker. We are a more because of your words and less without you.
You want it darker, I’m ready my lord. Let’s kill the flame.
My readers could be expecting a huge rant today after I virtually hid under a pillow and wished yesterday away.
But I can’t do that because I am Canadian, we tolerate bullshit, fuck even bat shit cray cray, we elected Steven Harper TWICE. So that says something.
But what has happened downstairs from my appartment is like cops electing the crack dealer that lives there.
But I live in Canada and I don’t have a dealer. So honesty, women why? you alone could have turned the vote?
People of ethnically different colors, where did you go? Were you oppressed, stopped from voting?
I want to know, Canada wants to know
You who follow me know I am Canadian, hockey snow ice all of that.
I but I spent the night watching baseball, the world series no less. And I am so Happy for the Cubs.
The masses of people who said it couldn’t happen, one club who had no shot and another club who held on all year. I am happy for the tired hungry masses, who yearn to break free and feel.
I saw support for both clubs jumping and celebrating. Lovin what they do, in excitement and peace.
We all love to fight hard, back our teams, play fair. Play Ball