Tomorrow may bring death and destruction, but the moment now is so beautiful it would be an even trade.

"goodbye to the pavement"

Piecing together a small fortune of clown diamonds far from the cave and close inside the collective minds blah-blahing their lives away up and down the boulevard has created a pacific high dive from whence my little ol' self watches the world. Possibly watch the world, is more accurate for the words here. Possibly is totally inaccurate when bikini replaces world. Flesh and fabric and green grass and small dreams make up my little world. Running through the bikini streets at dawn, I totally ignored the minds of my generation (and their philosophy of nothingness), to skip blissfully into the sweet arms of nature and love.

Lesser

Life is the quiet turn of a shoulder. Life is a primal yell. Life is the attempt to leap beyond the soft puffy clouds. Life is just a big bouncing ball of responsibility. Whatever life might be, I don't have the words or symbols to describe it. The fact that some people can tap on plastic buttons to make symbols that will dip into the minds of some other people is fascinating. Construct a fascinating dream and share it with other people in the world. What type of dream would you construct? Would you start with a world that valued life on a very high level? How would you define life? How would you define you? Would you be important in this grand dream of yours? Would you make yourself the Super Being? Would there be money in the dream? Would the dream be money? Would you value gold more than time? Would they value diamonds more than chocolate? Would the dream be beauty with a capital b? Would the lesser beings be born with an innate sense of true beauty as defined by you or would it be an acquired taste, pursued by a life time? Would the lesser beings have the opportunity to learn their inner beauty? Would the lesser beings engage life as a ferocious struggle? Would you let the lesser beings boogie?

We've gotten a lot of rain in the past day and a half.  We needed it.  Things were very dry last summer.  Rivers became trickles, reservoirs mud beds, things like that.  Things got so dry that people began having prayer meetings to ask for rain.  I believe in prayer.  Over the summer someone sent me an email with copies of letters written by children discussing their prayers with God.  The funniest one to me was: Dear God, I am thankful for the little brother that you sent me but what I asked for was a puppy. Love, Susie.
During a spare moment, I invented a font tonight.  In the morning, I'm going to run it by our brilliant draftsman to see if we're on to something.  Wielding power through copy brigands from coast to coast, inspiring the unbalanced to shift upright, addicting bloggers to a neuron popping symbol system, things like that.