kurt vonnegut

"I urge you to please notice when you are happy, and exclaim or murmur or think at some point, 'If this isn't nice, I don't know what is.'"

mantra

impossible translated --> i'm possible.

i had fun doing this

instead of wasting precious work time by googling about chocolates and opening all the inter-related links i can possibly get hold of, i stopped. pondered. and for the life of me, click on this:

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"back of every action, supporting it like an arch, is faith. enthusiasm is nothing; it comes and goes. but if one believes, then miracles occur." - henry miller

take a shower. clear your head. up and down, down, down. load up with chocolates. lots of it. fear not. doubt not. worry not. you are far greater than the chair you are sitting on now. stuck. you are not. stuck. you will be. if so you choose. what's the secret. let me in on it. ask. believe. receive. time is on your side. don't be scared stiff. see. see the whole. the entirety of phenomenal things to come. then, choose to do. choose to be consumed. choose to be exhausted by great and mighty deeds.

3 decades

aperire

what's her name, you asked. it's found in your desk calendar that you frequent a gaze on every time you feel pressed for time. it's the fourth month according to the gregorian calendar. they say in latin it means spring or to open. some pronounce it with a short i. then, they let their tongue curl a bit until it touch the roofs of their mouths for the L sound. LLLlllll. sounds sexy to me. she is that and everything she could possibly be.

everything.

she grew up a nomad, a wanderlust. the genetic lottery gifted her with a road warrior for a father whose armory is that thing with four wheels continuously turning on and on and on. with that vivid image in mind, you segued and entertained the cliche "life is like a wheel... sometimes you're up, sometimes you're down" -- inside your head. the perfect metaphor for life. she can give you countless tales, stories (some you wouldn't even want to hear), just sort of illustrating those words as they come alive, ascend into into thin air and dangle then slowly transform into the delicate fragments of our lives - the past, the present, the future.

what about her past? now, she looks back and view her past as something akin to a chocolate snicker's stain on her white skirt embellished with colorful beads, blue sequins and blue threads of embroidery. it sways like the wind. you'll see when you chance upon her walking around the bend. and her past, you asked again. it's sweet. sweet. sweet. not bitter.