Friday, August 29, 2008

A quest...

In a moment of anguish, I was promised life. Living well never made more sense to me than now. My rushes to the tea lounge make me happy but the art of cooking is also right up there, for me.

In my spirited bid for freedom from chaos and imposition, I lost my routine. How 'bout that?

"When lo! a Harlot form soft sliding by,
With mincing step, small voice and languid eye:"

Heroism has lost so many of its originals. The heroic stance of the fallen sometimes seems unreal but it's out there too. Driven by our needs and wants as we are, we often fail to see a design. I sure know that feeling. I mean, where's the crushed ice?

The unattainable used to be the preconceived version of perfection. And then, I found solitude.

"The word final, superior to all,
Subtle, sent up - what is it? - I listen;"

Do we reject the contemporaneous for myths or myth-making? Please send me your thoughts if you'd like to share them with me. This is, indeed, also the 'digital age' in some ways.

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