I see something sinking here. Drifting… gone away. Sinking to that bottom there. No more light of  day…

Lately I’ve been drinking here, and I’ve had so much to say. There’s been all this thinking there, and then I have to look away…

Its just these dreams.  What I’m thinking of. It’s not what it seems. I don’t believe in love.

Standing here at skies edge there, with nothing but today. Walking there on that ledge here, don’t you look the other way!!

Some days I just get things right here, when I hear the  song you play. Moves me to where I can see there, not look the other way.

You move me… You do. You move me, you do.

Its just those dreams. What I’m thinking of. Its not what it seems. I don’t believe in love.

Paul Fournier called and he’s shutting down THE ART STUDIO!!

Paul is in his 80’s and this day and call were INEVITABLE…

I am not sad, strangely; however I will miss ALL OF IT.

Paul, painting, talking with Paul, being with ZYLIA painting…

The kindest, most talented, most humble CHRISTIAN MAN I HAVE EVER MET.

WHAT A WONDERFUL LIFE EXPERIENCE THIS HAS BEEN. THANK YOU PAUL FOURNIER. 😊 💓

And somedays I don’t see those lights.

Victories fade into blood and fights.

More and more it becomes to clear.

I lose my faith and all I have is fear.

Victories… I felt some. The seven sea and Kingdom Come.

Victories… I lose too. Been down that low and I saw you.

I stay the course and ships been torn.

It all seems old before its born.

Floating now and getting out the way.

Not all is shown in a single day.

Victories, I felt some. The seven seas and Kingdom Come.

Victories… I lost too. Been down that low and I saw you.

I said I tried but I lied you know.

I know you know how that can go.

You were there with so and so.

They all knew the highs and low.

But I don’t do crowds so well.

I can’t buy what they sell.

I don’t believe the words they tell.

It’s all a game like Rome It fell.

There is this thing, I like good byes.

Fills my dreams with distant cries.

There is me and she is wise.

We fill our days with fall and rise.

The shit storm came as advertised.

It said “It’s not my first.”

I knew my words had lost their way.

With few blessings for the cursed.

The umbrella store had closed her doors.

The winds did blow and gust.

Change was ripe and felt like rain.

Which settled in the dust.

With her eyes upon horizons.

I thought, ‘Best to ride it out.’

There is Golden in that silence.

And there never was a doubt.

The Fever broke at at midnight.

I was naked and in sweats.

Not a terribly pretty picture.

But for now as good as gets.

I don’t get sick that often.

There’s a tickle with the cough.

The alarm is set mid-morning.

More bad dreams and then I’m off.

In legal terms you make an offer that is refused and the counter offer is refused and this is repeated ad nauseum, instead of making the offer first that is finally accepted. Everyone loses time and money except…

The Lawyers!

My strategy is a more down home approach which can best be described by the antiquated saying, “Shit or get off the Pot!”

I don’t have the patience, time or money for any other strategy than “Shit or get off the pot.”

I will let you know how this works out.

My daughter told the ‘original nanny.’

“Just stop talking.”

She left in a huff of tears.

The second nanny lasted 11 months during an incredibly difficult covid epidemic, before overstepping the boundaries of acceptability. I think it’s important to communicate respectfully regardless of age and size, and so does my daughter.

The current Nanny is a lovely sweet neighbor who my daughter adores and although early feels like a wonderful transition.

Christ I need a break!

Sometimes I find it necessary to clear the air and not everyone has astute self awareness or the realization of when they are bringing their own sense of immaturity and tomfuckery to a situation. I on the other hand have a therapist whom I greatly respect and he informs me when I am bringing my own brand of tomfuckery to the stage of life.

The drama precedes the panic.

The consequences of the drama are real.

Sometimes I just go to a quiet place and pray.   And just like that somehow, someway it works out or it doesn’t…

Either way clearing the air is usually worth the efforts. My circle is getting intentionally smaller.

The problem is not that you lied.

The problem is that I can’t trust you again.

The problem is that I held you above the masses and now you are just among the herd, grazing, shitting, complaining; or whatever it is your lot does down there…