WCMarchese

Jubilee, except maybe not as long, the length, but still extended, for your viewing pleasure. The weekend. It's been happening for quite some time now, and even before they were able to calculate days. Depends on how you look at it: perspective. They? Sure. Whoever you want them to be. But we're here, the weekend, and it's joyous, it's wonderful. Rest. Or don't. But you mustn't waste it.    Look around. Dig your heels into the ground. Don't let them pull you along by the invisible rope that tightens each day. Loosen it up. Loosen up. Relax just for the sake of relaxing. There's time. Or is there?    Of course. Life is what you make of it. So create it well. Think as you sculpt. But remember to help others, too. Because that adds to it all. Don't you see? Figuratively, because the big picture is too big to take in with your eyes. Or mind.  Live.    All the past is in the past. Sip a drink and think about this, maybe in front of a fireplace, maybe arou

Renown. I just wanted to use that word. Don't know why. Or maybe I do. Just seemed like an exceptional way to start off an essay. Swaying back and forth in my chair, in a trance, staring at the words, moving back and forward, side to side, in anticipation of my next words. Am I that interesting--that I want to hear what I'm going to say before I say it? Think it? But don't I know what I'm going to say? Think. That's strange, like a dirty birdy. Except I'm not dirty and definitely not a bird. I'm not in a mothball-smelling bed, laying there as some hulking lady hovers over me with a sledgehammer. Thank God. She has a hankering for knees it seems. Or seemed. But, you see, that never happened. Nothing to see here folks.   Keep on with your daily activities, reading things that are meant to thrill, or horrify? Wires sliding out from the box set before you, pulling out, seeking, finding your flesh, eyes, ears. They burrow in. But if you open your eyes now, you do

It matters not what you do, but what you think you are doing? Is this true? Or a lie? Fooling yourself. Like that family member who says they lost ten pounds, while they shove a pastry down their gullet. In their mind they are an Adonis, or Aphrodite (are those the names?). And that donut is the elixir to all their woes. It is demolished and melted down a tube only to be burned for a magical energy that stimulates weight-loss. At least in their eyes. They glow, inside shaking with exuberance. They throw their head up to the sky and dance. Happiness envelopes them in a sugary coating, fat encrusting on flat surfaces. Twisting and turning, they spin and sing and dance and--   Put that donut down. You have work to do. It's Monday. And thinking is the first step. Open your eyes, cats dancing all around. On cupboards, cabinets, tables, and chairs. Roiling about in ecstasy upon nip of cat. They don't think this, they know this. This is their reality. The other cats all around don'

Here we are. Another day another dollar, but sometimes that dollar is just fifty cents. And yet we keep moving forward, pulling on. Crawling at some point, perhaps--if we didn't take care of ourselves or were highly unlucky. But some continue, clawing at the cliff's edge so as not to fall into the abyss, never to be seen again. Yet still with ourselves. We came into this world alone and will leave that way, so look around and make this world your own. Now. Because what you see today will only be a memory burned onto your mind later, fading slowly as the light does at twilight. And night takes its grip all too tightly as you search, eyes wide, for that which had just zoomed right by. Gone as you watch the sand slide silkily through your fingers. No matter how tightly you push them together you can't stop that escape. Escape!   Escape! This. If at least only for a moment.   Look around. Dance. Hold on to the day until your hands get tired and you release and fall into