Man comes into this world without his consent and leaves it against his will. During his stay on earth his time is spent in one continuous round of contraries and misunderstandings. In his infancy he is an angel. In his boyhood he is a devil. In his manhood he is everything from a lizard up. In his duties he is a damn fool. If he is a poor man he is a poor manager, and has no sense. If he is rich, he is dishonest and is considered smart. If he goes to church he is a hypocrite. If he stays away he is a sinner. When he comes into the world everyone wants to kiss him, before he goes out, they want to kick him. If he dies young, he had a great future before him. If he lives to ripe old age, he is in the way. What’s the use, life is a funny proposition after all.
i have a wall of light my cube was happy maintenance man came around with tubes of mercury and fixed the unbroken fixtures now the exquisite light is polluted with bogus light an unfiltered torrent of fluorescence angry angry at the light I did not ask for angry at the world and the intrusion can I stay a while too much to ask too much to hope for in this homogenized habitrail this civilized place to stay a while unearthed
When I was 3 years old, I remember standing in front of a huge glass wall of water… my dad was to my left and my mother was to my right…and Eve, my twin sister was right beside me. We were peeking past the iron bars that separated us from the ‘wall.’ Within the wall, were giant, mysterious, slow-moving creatures… a shark… a school of fish.. a mane-ray. A giant sea turtle paddled by … and on its back… someone dressed like Aquaman. I asked my mother about the man…she said..”he’s taking care of the turtle.” My eyes were dinner plates. I did not know where I was at the time… but many years later, I asked my mother about this ‘dream’ of mine… and she says, oh, yes, we were there…
This song… reminds me of all the missed opportunities in my lifetime. I guess everyone needs that go-to song to take them to that place… that place of reflection… contemplation… OK, I admit it.. I play it when I need to cry.
MISS V:Do you think it's possible that a person could live almost an entire lifetime make-believing like all she ever needed was not much more than God and pretty purses?
NED:(beat) Come again?
MISS V:How can I put this? Billy Ruthcoe.
MISS V:Two years ago, famous incident, Brother Herbert was guest pastor over at 1st Baptist. Billy Ruthcoe, you remember, got so carried away in the moments just after he was baptized, he just couldn't contain himself and he made like he was climbing out of the water to go and dry off…but instead of doin that, he turned around and came running back and did a full out cannonball into the baptismal font.
NED:You want to do a cannonball into the baptismal font?
MISS V:No. No - yes! Yes, I do! That’s exactly what I want to do.
NED:You want the keys to the church...
MISS V:That is just like a man. I don’t want you to give me the keys to the church Ned. I want you to sit quietly and make all your sandwiches and look up from time to time with a knowing expression and shake your head in agreement or say I know it, I know it... or just maybe listen quietly and when it’s your turn to talk just mirror back to me once in a while what I’ve said, so I can let it go, is that too much to ask?
wreckless aware you atop the flying bridge me in flight furious embrace choking the vastness lethal epic charged cataclysmic undertow lurching forward reverse-thrust wings flailing at the surface tendrils tossed lost and swirling brush the coral down down down into the void unavailing eyes heart ruptured from the depth dispossessed quiet now return to her as if I ever had you anyhow…
The two took off their clothes and made love to protect our ration of paradise and time, to touch our roots, to rescue ourselves, to rescue the inheritance stolen from us by the thieves of life centuries ago, the two took off their clothes and kissed because two bodies, naked and entwined, leap over time, they are invulnerable, nothing can touch them, they return to the source, there is no you, no I, no tomorrow, no yesterday, no names, the truth of two in a single body, a single soul, oh total being …
(From the screenplay "FIN AND EUBA") - INT. MORNING - LAUNDRY MAT - VENDING MACHINE - FIN and EUBA sit in the seats adjacent to the vending machine, scrutinizing their choices. FIN holds a dollar bill absent-mindedly.
Fin:I wonder if I was that snickers bar right now how I might just look around to the other snacks and just say ya’ll know what, ya’ll bore me to tears each and every day, the same damn thing day in and day out, just once I’d like to set next to some zapps or hot fries.
Euba:I just don’t think a Snickers bar would say that.
Euba:Hmn mn. Besides, you know what, that Snickers Bar idn’t in there for too long anyway, cuz folks’ll eat the Snickers.
Fin:Well, ok, point, but take a look down there to the Dentyne. Now how long has that been in there?
Euba:I hadn’t ever seen anybody eat that Dentyne.
Fin:See! And that is a perfectly good spot for some zapps or hot fries, but does anybody ever ask or take note of what we want in there?
Euba:No, Fin, they do not.
Fin:(subsoncsicously playing with the dollar bill) I need change.
It is an illusion that youth is happy, an illusion of those who have lost it; but the young know they are wretched for they are full of the truthless ideals which have been instilled into them, and each time they come in contact with the real, they are bruised and wounded. - W. Somerset Maugham, ‘Of Human Bondage’, 1915
Life is speeding. It wasn’t before. I want to hold on, but it is already gone…that moment, that snapshot, that elusive time, endless replay. Gone.
I always wondered why my youth was so painful. And now I have come to realize, it’s all painful. That’s just how life is. It’s only in relative terms that we feel short-changed, maybe because that’s what we feed on each and every day…the ‘idea’ of life…through t.v., movies, commercials, even a beautiful photograph. Oh, how romantic. How hilarious. How perfectly cool. Even reality t.v. …manufactured.
Still… I like to believe it is possible…to find oneself at long last in that proverbial bower of peace…a cottage perhaps, everything in white, clean, soft inviting light. Cool blue shallows of warm gulf stream water lazily percolating through sugar. And in the early hours of evening…a delicate, dulcet strain of whispered music waltzing with the fickle waves of high tide, crashing, ebbing, shhhhhh….