Wall

Strange how this bed, when empty, rises up onto one side, and becomes a wall. A cold, hard wall. A brick wall. This bedroom cools to an even lower temperature than usually. And the darkness loses its softness. Becomes bleak. Bitter. Hollow.

I have spent some of my loneliest moments in a sea of people. Being lonely can hurt even more when seperation is visited upon you repeatedly, and irregularily, on top of already prolonged deprivation of contact. And after years of that, sometimes your stamina can just fail. Without warning. Like falling hard on your face while walking down a flight of steps. It immediately hurts. But it also introduces fear into you. You become less certain of yourself. Your ability to safely sail down some stairs. Or go without contiguous presence of another human being for extended periods of time.

I don't want to go up there. I don't want to crawl into that bed. Alone. Again.

Birthday

Happy 250th, Wolfy. You old rascal.

Stay hungry, stay foolish

A year ago or so, I was sitting in the living room of some dear friends of mine. They were uprooting. They love books, and part of the uprooting was going through their formiddable stash of books and see what could go. I was sitting on the floor and picking intriguing titles out from a bookshelf. As I picked out a thick old catalogue, Sears I believe, my friend started telling me about another catalogue, The Whole Earth Catalogue. He had a glint in his eyes as he told me about this adventurous project.

Since then, I have heard that name mentioned a few times, and every time, it has been in some warm, nostalgic context. Like an emblem of free thinking, the notion that everything is possible. Of innocence, even.

Say what you may about the mercurial Steve Jobs, he does know how to give a good speech (Visiting Lecturers and Speeches -> Steve Jobs' 2005 Commencement Address on Video).