Nobody Knows
Nobody knows
Nobody I know
Knows I’m writing
This blog
Sometimes I don’t
Even know
A word or a phrase.
Will capture my attention, I’ll jot it down, let it ruminate for a while. Like a seedling for a tree and all that it will evolve into from practically nothing.
Then as if I blinked, or traversed another dimension, look back and find a myriad of words in place that “I” never typed.
Yet, from its perceived incipiency, has all the characteristics in it, from the trunk to the branches to the leaves, its base nature always there.
How “old” it will be, how strong it is becomes a matter of coincidence and words that spill out in some apparent context.
I’d like to think judgements are nill, as (hopefully) at least two sides are presented in any given rant, or obscure meaning in some convoluted poem. Always trying to end on a positive note.
Fortunately or unfortunately, everything makes it to screen. The quality filter is missing, or is such an open sieve, it knows no bounds to trap and alert brain, controlling fingers to not “hit” publush.
Reading this post is the proof, or I’m sure the last 5 posts, or any 5 random posts. Quite frankly, all posts should have been left in my brain, or printed out and swept up off the cutting room floor.
The worst of it is, I just typed in something brilliant, forgot to hit save. Now it is gone into the ether.
I’m guessing that it might resurface if I keep typing long enough, or perhaps re-hear a song, and the lyric that jumped out to inspire, or maybe replay a comedian’s “bit”.
I suspect, not yet sharing this blog has a lot to do with sin, not the biblical useless meme of printed words, interpreted wildly to control the populace, through manipulation, righteousness and fear.
I mean sin as in the acronym of Safety In Numbers. Figuring, that if I type enough, although some may be reprehensible, it will be balanced out by something clever, witty or inspiring.
Knowing most all of these posts landed in/on this blog with nary an editor for clarity or hilarity.
Just random thoughts, hoping that enough will either make sense, be remotely funny, or at least not too dark for general consumption.
All the while maintaining my balance of 51/50
51% kind, genuine, sincere, helpful.
50 % Befuddled, poor communicator, stubborn, goofy, narcissistic, sui generis, arrogant, socially awkward and inept.
Functioning, just barely in a small group of people almost entirely family who because I’m part of the family that likes the 51% and tolerates the other 50%.
I suppose the real motivation behind writing this is, to be published in a book.
Kansas
“Carry On Wayward Son”
Carry on my wayward son
There’ll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don’t you cry no more
Ah
Once I rose above the noise and confusion
Just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion
I was soaring ever higher, but I flew too high
Though my eyes could see I still was a blind man
Though my mind could think I still was a mad man
I hear the voices when I’m dreaming,
I can hear them say
Carry on my wayward son,
There’ll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don’t you cry no more
Masquerading as a man with a reason
My charade is the event of the season
And if I claim to be a wise man,
Well, it surely means that I don’t know
On a stormy sea of moving emotion
Tossed about, I’m like a ship on the ocean
I set a course for winds of fortune,
But I hear the voices say
Carry on my wayward son
There’ll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don’t you cry no more no!
Carry on,
You will always remember
Carry on,
Nothing equals the splendor
Now your life’s no longer empty
Surely heaven waits for you
Carry on my wayward son
There’ll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don’t you cry,
Don’t you cry no more,
No more!
Lovely! That’s always the feeling to me too
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