Three coins in a fountain
Each one seeking happiness
Thrown by three hopeful lovers
Which one will the fountain bless?
Three hearts in the fountain
Each heart longing for its home
There they lie in the fountain
Somewhere in the heart of Rome Continue reading
Posted in Life
Who am I?
Don’t we all ask ourselves that from time to time?
Some of us are luckier than others. We know our purpose; we know why we were put here and what our cells are made of. At our hearts, even when shaken and broken down, we know we can return to ourselves and find some strength within. In those times, we’re in search of bedrock. A foundation for something pure, secure and steady. Continue reading
“Burke said there were Three Estates in Parliament; but, in the Reporters’ Gallery yonder, there sat a Fourth Estate more important far than they all. It is not a figure of speech, or a witty saying; it is a literal fact, very momentous to us in these times.
Literature is our Parliament too. Printing, which comes necessarily out of Writing, I say often, is equivalent to Democracy: invent Writing, Democracy is inevitable . . . It matters not what rank [the reporter] has, what revenues or garnitures. The requisite thing is that he have a tongue which others will listen to; this and nothing more is requisite.” – Thomas Carlyle.
The day I signed my employment agreement for my new job, I posted a late-night bulletin [on MySpace] with a brief mention of how I sealed the deal. Continue reading
Maybe I don’t wanna.
Maybe I’m just tired. I don’t feel like returning your call. You took too long to figure out what “friend” meant. I have enough people to love me. I don’t need half love.
Maybe, just maybe, I’m ready for someone new in my life. I mean really new. Maybe old . . . maybe he’s been there for awhile, hovering like a . . . what do you call that thing you can’t ignore? The elephant in the corner? Or was it a 500-pound gorilla? I don’t know, but maybe I’m ready for him. Whoever he is. Continue reading
Normally, I don’t talk about things like my professional interactions on MySpace [NOTE: This post was originally published on MySpace] because a) I prefer to remain un-stalked and, b) I respect the privacy of those who have the misfortune of dealing with me on a daily basis and I understand that if they wanted people to read about their lives, they would write about it themselves.
But sometimes things cross the line into being blog-worthy despite those facts, so I’ll break my own rules for the moment. Continue reading
Dangerously Enthusiastic 