land dragged from sea river-snaked salt marsh what moves? what's still?
Salt Marsh Haiku
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I'm in a special mode of mind. One in which nothing is ahead or behind. Everything is shades of a me that doesn't exist. So, maybe I'm a reflection of all that is -- in as much as there is an "I." I don't know how I slipped into this anti-solipsist stance -- believing everything exists, but I. I'm a figment, but since I can't be a figment of my own imagination, I'm not sure what flavor of figment I might be.
They called him "the Emperor of Pain," the they who didn't know his real name, a name that was comically disjointed to his reputation, a name that was to this man as that gentle lisping voice is to Mike Tyson, and so they gave him that ridiculous name, and he became both more and less than what he really was.
I Pray for smooth travels... but not too smooth; bad experiences make good stories. II Mother nature is the kind of mother who doesn't play favorites. III Fairness and simplicity are fine, but the solution that works may be neither. IV Difficulties only ruin trips attitudinally doomed. V Think of lost luggage as an exercise in creative decision making.