Jeremiah's School of Levitation

Some days, the minor league feelings I deal with fall all over me, and some days, I could take it like a man and stand up straight as you please and walk into nothingness.

The world looks like this most of the time: a bad boy, a bad bad use of my time, a good dog, a rainy Sunday, a slippery slope, a super duper Dagwood Bumstead sub sandwich, and, on a few occasions, a tidal wave. But, that is just philosophy talking. Philosophy talks a whole hell of a lot and has nothing to say. It's all just a ramble and a proclamation that is meant to just serve yourself, or at least make yourself look good amongst ramblers and proclaimers.

I am the waterway, the place of least resistance. Ride my waves, or cut right through them, doesn't matter to me at all. No, not at all. But, seemingly, from above, I look calm, but all that talk about still waters running deep and tumultuous under the gentle ripples is not so true. I don't run any deeper than quiet love, on average. Nope, no deeper than that.

I'll take the rainy Sunday and the super sub sandwich, hold the angst, heavy on the lowbrow comedy.

so, how's things going?

Mona: Make it two, with a shot of vodka.

Ipod: Oh, I'm alright. That was my journal talking. Journals get whiny sometimes!