Friday, July 22, 2005

Born Slippy.

There is this place that exists now only in the darkest recesses of his mind, a place that he once knew.
A time, a land of pure beauty and essential freedom that once filled his heart with song and lit his soul with fire. He remembers how wonderful it was to just be there, to be in the middle of it realize that this is all he needed in life; that nothing else matters but this moment.
He sits alone now, with only a 3 hour old glass of semi-decent cognac and the music of The Killers to keep him company. And all he could think about is that one time when all was right and all was good. When he was so happy with living for the here and now, when nothing else mattered but the pure essence of the moment of being there. And it's all he can do to try to rekindle that magic, that spirit now long lost in the annals of history; of times long gone. But he persists with some sliver of hope that maybe in some strange one in a billion alignment of the planets that everything will go back to the way they were... that this strange land that he suddenly finds himself lost in will instantly revert to this one place that he once knew. A place where his heart was filled with endless joy and neverending song.


It's amazing what several (quite a few) glasses of chianti & chardonnay and a glass of Parrot Bay rum & Pepsi can do to one's ability to type at a keyboard. :)

I really think I should take the Honda out tomorrow for a rip snorting romp through six gears and nine thousand RPM.

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At 7/22/2005 11:05 PM, Blogger DJ John said...

As long as it's not after all that booze buddy! Enjoy both activities though.


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