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 Thoughts destined to be washed away by the tides of life. |
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I've been studying my cover photo for a while now, and it seems to me that it is more than just a photo of what is there that can be seen, more than just three white rocks stacked on a beach. It contains an important question about the future, about what happens long after the photographer has gone. What will happen to our pile of stones when the tide comes in? Will it topple or has the architect built this structure at a safe distance? I don't know what will happen to these words that I stack here on the sand. They may prove safely distant, or they may be swallowed up by a rush of self-doubt. They may be here for a season. They may lose their balance and be scattered by the shoreline, or be hidden away under shifting sands. Perhaps someday, the tides of life will reclaim them. Or maybe that's just a bunch of poetic, romantic nonsense. After all, this is just a blog. |
| I am growing tired of these social media posts and internet articles about cat behavior. They all claim to decipher the actions of cats and tell owners what they "really mean". I've been watching my cat for a long time now and I can say for sure that I have no idea what half these behaviors "really mean". Heck, the poor cat probably has no clue why she does some of the things she does. Cats are imperfectly domesticated. They have adapted to a life of comfort indoors, but in their DNA runs a wild streak they neither understand nor can control. Even if you can momentarily convince a cat that you don't enjoy having your arm kicked and bitten and scratched, the cat won't remember not to do that. It's instinct. It's a technique for disemboweling prey. It's in the cat's nature to want to kill you, but it becomes a kind of aggressive play because you're far too big to conquer. No, it's not because you feed the cat or stroke it and let it sleep on your bed. The cat is incapable of weighing those benefits against the delicious idea of tearing you to shreds and throwing you around like a soft toy. If you were the size of a mouse, you'd be a saliva-coated rag doll. I don't say to the cat "oh you're such a good kitty". There's no such thing. Maybe an old, fat cat is quiet and passive, but this young and lithe creature of mine is no better than she ought to be. She behaves quite badly at times, but she can't help that. She's a cat. I try not expect too much from my cat. A more docile creature wouldn't be useful. She might occasionally bite me out of uncontainable excitement, but she keeps the mouse population under control and so we have agreed to make allowances for each other's strange behavior. |
The prompt over at "EXPRESS IT IN EIGHT "  today is Stardust. Honestly, I feel like I have written a lot of poems about stardust and nothing new has crossed my mind. But, if something stirs in your imagination, you should run over there and contribute. It's a fun activity. I did write this poem for Express it in Eight about a year ago: It is said we are made of star dust we are not just part of the universe but it is part of us the remains of ancient days intricately woven into our DNA and yet we look to the skies seeking meaning for our lives when we are the reason for it all And that is about all I have to say about star dust. But Hoagy Carmichael said many more elegant things in his song "Stardust" and so I offer this: The melody haunts my reverie... |
| 6:18 am Second cup of coffee Finally caught up on Promptly Poetry. Various other contributions made on other forums. Now blogging my morning. I feel very accomplished and there's still coffee in the pot. Have some happy music: |
| I’ve had some reviews recently. First, I will apologize for not responding. Soon, soon. Unless it’s been more than six months. Then it would be embarrassing to remind people that they've written a review on a piece that they don't remember having read. No need to point out how forgettable my writing is. So I just want to say that I will eventually get around to thanking all of you regardless of how enthusiastic you were (or were not ) when you read the piece that you reviewed. Many members belong to one or more of the encouraging reviewing groups here at WDC and some groups require suggestions as part of a review in order for it to qualify. Luckily, for the people who review my writing, I leave a lot to be suggested. The bulk of suggestions though, tend to refer to my lack of a line count or word count and definitely highlight my resistance to using drop down menus. I honestly do see the benefits of including word counts and line counts and even organizing notes about the prompt and the piece itself under a drop-down menu, but that still doesn't mean it's going to happen. Here's my process: I sit down. I drink some coffee. I write something, probably something I was supposed to write several days ago.. I drink more coffee. I post what I wrote and if there's no more coffee, then I run away and I don't come back for a very long time. Usually. I have a lot of other things I have to do. It's not as if I don't appreciate these suggestions, I do. They're actually very good suggestions. I'm just not sure I'm organized enough to be capable of following any of them - and I'm sure that I'm far too lazy. However, there is an upside to not taking these valuable suggestions: it gives the next reviewer something to remark on in his or her review since it's not going to get any better. I suppose it might also be a bit self-serving because it lessens the need to critique my actual writing. And if there's anything I dislike more than counting words in the lines of my drop-down menus, it's criticism. |
| I decided that there's no harm in writing a blog post that you really don't expect anyone to read. After all, people are busy with their own thoughts and probably not interested in the thoughts that go running through my mind, leaving their muddy footprints and making such noise that the real world is drowned out. No, there's no reason to burden others with those. But then again, maybe that is what social media is all about. I see many people on social media who discard their adulthood and become middle school mean girls, making up silly names for people they don't like and spreading wild theories. Paranoia reigns supreme but I have noticed that those who suffer from it are all still there and have not been imprisoned for thought crimes as they daily fret about. Essentially, social media could be something great and useful but usually isn't. It's why I get tired. I need to get back to work and get my ducks in a row. That's not easy. They prefer a slightly triangular formation some days. |
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I'm headed for my first cup of coffee now...
