The Angst of March:
What is haunting this Easter Sunday, ten years past my girls' frolicking in life sublime, is the incoherence of my solitude, the empty, senseless culmination of a journey, fallen so hard and short, from deep in the angst of March.
Island of Allan:
If you are looking for perfection, you will not find it here, nor in the Red Wings, nor in my writings, my life, or my trend tables. But as the subscribers above-referenced point out, there is value here, big value, but it comes with fallibility. Most of Datsyuk's shots don't go in the net, but of the ones that do, they make a difference, a consequential, almost eloquent difference, not only for Pavel, but for his teammates; not only for Allan, but for his teammates.
On a Monday in May:
But I forgot that Dylan was on and that his songs pierce the protective shells that we build just so we can go on. Poignant, stinging, disarming, his simple words rhyme across decades of loves; loves found, loves lost and loves remembered.
And on this Monday in May, a love mourned.
Someone saw that one
A phone call pointed the way,
a blog was read;
Someone reached out
closure was intended,
magic intervened.
Inexplicable comes to mind.
Intricate emotional frenzy
portrait of the artist as a middle-aged man;
No longer on the edge,
no longer on the brink,
inexplicably (there it is again) found,
serendipity breeds enlightenment.
The true nature of love. Kindred souls. Physical (read: sexual) tension of unimaginable attraction. Karmic energy reaching across the unseen, toward the unknown; without time nor space, without memory nor fate, "Far from the twisted read of crazy sorrow."
Then take me disappearin’ through the smoke rings of my mind
Down the foggy ruins of time, far past the frozen leaves
The haunted, frightened trees, out to the windy beach
Far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow
Yes, to dance beneath the diamond sky with one hand waving free
Silhouetted by the sea, circled by the circus sands
With all memory and fate driven deep beneath the waves
Let me forget about today until tomorrow
Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me
I’m not sleepy and there is no place I’m going to
Hey! Mr. Tambourine Man, play a song for me
In the jingle jangle morning I’ll come followin’ you
