rivers.

im staring at this white box. thinking all sorts of clever things, unfortunately nothing original. its amazing how often we can remember other peoples creativity and brilliance. 

so as my dull and monotonous mind mulls things over like leaves and why the change color or why mosquitos have to replace the blood they take with irritating poison or why music can take the edge off a mood or why death is such a fascinating idea or why a blue sky is a lullaby and a star filled night a symphony or the sadness involved in the ability to talk with a stranger for ages but only a few minutes with a friend.

i guess through this myriad of randomness a contended haze fills my head. and i realize its okay to be blank. sometimes life slows down and its okay to drift.

rivers are a cool parallel. they rush and smash into rocks, beating things into oblivion while furiously pushing on. they slow down, lazily carrying themselves along. they fall and fall and fall to crash onto the rocks breaking themselves and swirling only to emerge strong. they dam up and pause, slowing to a trickle. but they consistently move, the pace changes, the things they carry vary but their always progressing. 

our life will move. whether we physically do or not, the earth turns. our life's pace alters from second to second. a rush to a trickle. a trickle to a steadiness. a steadiness to a fall. a fall to a rush. and so it goes. 

so when it slows learn to drift. when it rushes learn to breathe. when it falls learn to laugh. and when its steady appreciate what was and anticipate what is to come. 

the queen.

so my lovely girlfriend. (and when i say lovely i mean an adorable brown hair, blue eyed angel with the most horrific tendency to physically abuse me at a whims notice) so her. the beautiful doll of everlasting torment told me a story this evening. 

a small girl in her mother's library enjoys coloring. apparently she's quite creative. so magically inventive in fact that elizabeth taylor has decided to purchase them to decorate a children's museum. to which information i replied, "O, I was unaware the queen enjoyed art." 

the following interaction ensued...i laughed heinously in my chair with lovely abuser pounding away at my unprotected spleen, liver and other vital bodily parts.

for this story to be humorous. you have to know that elizabeth taylor is in fact not the queen of england but an actress and only an immature, sleep deprived, under paid delinquent would find it so amusing as to infuriate his beloved with such idiocy. so this post is for my sake. to remember and appreciate. 

and for you. i have only this tidbit of insight...toothpaste.