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Broken
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Uncategorized
- Hits: 1144
Broken beyond repair;
Sometimes some things get so lost,
You forget they were ever there.
Sometimes, some people, they wear out;
there's nothing left to say,
and just when you'd wished they'd disappear,
You find they've slipped away;
Sometimes some words get so obscured,
and what is said
isn't what is heard,
and all this writing only serves
to add to the confusion;
Sometimes the grandest gestures,
are doomed to crash and fail;
sometimes the finest actions
are played out to no avail.
Some times drag on forever;
measured lifetimes without end;
Sometimes some things get broken,
So broke they'll never mend;
Sometime when all your tears are wept,
and spilled into the sea;
Sometime when you have erased your life,
and swept up the debris
Sometime when you have fixed yourself
You'll turn around and see
That I was never broken;
that you abandoned me
(that you discarded me)
Day Off - January 24 - 2010
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Miscellany
- Hits: 1735
Last night, a late night at work, in bed by 2:00 AM.
This morning, up at 7:00. The cat's been scratching at her litter box for an hour, she won't quit, I need to empty it, and when it's done I resolve to stay up. Coffee. More coffee. Check email, enter a few online contests, another win, apparently, 3rd prize, need to call tomorrow and find out what it is....I don't recall having even entered their contest...Shovel sidewalk.
9:00 AM - Call friend for coffee.
Meet for coffee. He's into Deepak Shopra at the moment, it's all making sense, he mimes for me the attitude of perfect mental emptiness I need to manifest my dreams.
I give him a minute or two, ensuring I understand. He's got his eyes screwed shut, holding his hands in front of him, waiting....
I don't need lessons in mental emptiness at the moment. My mind, my head, is a vacuum.
After coffee a ride to the Hillhurst Flea Market, no great treasures today, the periscope, it's vanished, not sure if it's been sold or the dealer's simply forgotten to bring it with him, I don't ask, to ask is to reduce one's bargaining power...
I do find a made in Holland porcelain statue of the beloved virgin for a twoonie, I pick it up, sucker that I am for religious kitsch.
Then home, a sandwich and a nap.
Dreams, erratic, that my rosary collection has been vandalized, someone has stolen the crosses from them, broken jewellry, an old house in Moose Jaw, they, the thief/antique dealer, lives across the street, he agrees to pay for damages only he wants to take back an old round oak table he sold me, he'll pay me $1400, which is OK, wheeling it across the street, an Asian gangster is watching him...
The phone wakes me, tele-web-advice, provided, back to sleep...
...more bizarre dreams...
then up, exhausted, at 5:00, email, work, surf the net, writing, projects, laundry, pay bills online, the ever growing list of countless things to be done in a very limited time....
Now time for laundry, dishes, back to writing, watch the rest of the BBC special on Chaos...
Time passes.
BBC - The Secret Life of Chaos
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Link of the day
- Hits: 1171
A rather excellent documentary by the BBC on the history and science behind chaos. Great music & visuals, and if you're not terribly well read quite informative. Especially intriguing are Turing's illustrations of his theories as they develop.
I told her not to think for herself!
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Conversations
- Hits: 1104
He's in a rage. The hostess, somehow she's cocked up and now he's telling the rest of the staff what an idiot she is.
They agree. They always agree.
"I told her not to think! If she needed to think to get one of you to think for her. Some women....they should be sent back to Saudi Arabia where they can learn their place! How many times I tell her not to think?"
Apparently she's not a very good listener.
"Some women, they can think OK, I know" ... he's relenting a bit in his general and ruthless assessment of womankind, "but her, how many times I tell her? 'Don't think for yourself'".
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