Sunday, January 20, 2008

The Roman Empire

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I was too tired to sleep and so began searching through and old book for the answer to one of my ever constant questions, when I found this note scribbled in the margin of the index. It was right next to "Roman Empire", which makes it even more interesting. I didn't remember writing it at first. The feeling of the poem was a memory, but not necessarily the words themselves. I must have been sixteen:

The sun set in blue and purple
and the fireflies danced against our feet.
orbs of light
flashing on
and off
again and again they flutter
and dip against the faltering breeze.
We dare to glance
a little sideways
at each other
hoping to find
the same delight
of twinkle and mind.
What was once the beginning
is soon the middle
as the spell of light breaks
and the citronella dies
the end moves quickly now
swift and somewhat painful
for the fairy lights will not survive
the night in the glass jars
with "mason" as their last memory.

-Just thought it was interesting and since no one reads these things anyways - it doesn't matter in the end. This blog is sort of like a boob job. It's not for anyone but me - right?

Thursday, January 17, 2008

Friends

So, I finally talked to a friend today that I hadn't spoken to in almost a year. In fact, the last time we traded barbs was at her wedding, which I was in. Yes, I am that friend. You know, the one who simply falls off the face of the earth at the most random moments. It was really good to hear her voice. We just picked it back up. I really think I should present all wouldbe friends with a document, stating all my bad-friend tendencies - the bizarre story-telling, boring play-by-play details of my day and weird off-the-wall comments. All of this is of course, in conjunction with my talent for disappearing. If you have any doubt, just ask Tammy Cox. She will be more than happy to back me up, I am sure. I do have a feeling that my unnamed dear friend and I will always maintain this pattern. We have known each other for way too long. I mean, when you have grown up with someone who KNOWS what you looked like as a fat kid, it's pretty impossible to surprise them with any behavior. She knows me too well to give me a hard time about my nonsense ways.