could you be any less cohesive?

what in the world (and happy birthday to an old friend i miss even as an ethereal bit of fluffy smoke in the older memory cells of the brain) could be going through the synapses with such a tittle we may never know, but certainly there is something profoundly curious in the way words flow through this place and if i didn't know better i would think they were painted by numbers laid out by some higher power as just to amuse those who are agnostically inclined and still, be that as it may or may not be, the folly meets the purpose somewhere between the lines for anyone with any real caring to be aware and ask, even, cuz in the end you are made if you gave all your love...

and bullsugar!

ah, strum your guitar, sing it kid...

just write about your feelings, not the things you never did... and yet, all he did was write about things he never did, a lot, and he felt them as if he did them, which was his secret, i guess, and if you really listened, you heard and if you really heard, you felt and if you really felt, you cried and if you really cried, you healed...

harry chapin takes me home to my roots better than anyone and tonight, i remember first loves, first passion, first feelings... bittersweet memories, because they are so sweet but no longer shared...

still, i want to say... happy birthday :)

how long?

in 1971, when we met, the world was a very different place... you had your baton, you had your trumpet, i had my hair, my accordion, my running, and we had our music... music was much more magical, personal, and communal back then... and place, we had a place, we had your basement to play in, party in, sleep in, and commune in... i miss communing... people don't commune much these days...

happy birthday old friends... long may we smile :)