A little much isn't it?

I often wonder about the readers that come here. What are you thinking when you read these words?

I wonder what head space you might be in when you drop in, a delicate balance sometimes, but it is important to me. If you are sad, then I try to be sad. If you come here with a smile on your heart, I hope that you leave here the same way.

You still think that things are impossible. I am here to tell you that they are not.

You think that freedom is independence. I am here to say that there are better freedoms to be found.

You want treasure just to look upon it. I am here to show you magical kingdoms that unravel streets of gold.

You come here feeling unloved. I am here to whisper that I love you.

You came here feeling stressed out about your life. I am here to let you forget about the outside world for a moment.

To quote Robbie Robertson:

"Who else is gonna bring you a broken arrow
Who else is gonna bring you a bottle of rain
There he goes moving across the water
There he goes turning my whole world around" 

I wanna breathe when you breathe
When you whisper like that hot summer breeze
Count the beads of sweat that cover me
Didn't you show me a sign this time


Can you see what I see
Can you cut behind the mystery
I will meet you by the witness tree
Leave the whole world behind

I want to come when you call
I'll get to you if I have to crawl
They can't hold me with these iron walls
We got mountains to climb, to climb"
 

Salud!

Я часто интересую о читателях которые приходят здесь.
Что вы думаете когда вы прочитаете эти слова?
Я интересую какой головной космос вы могли быть в когда вы падаете внутри, чувствительный баланс иногда, но важно к мне. Если вы унылы, то я пробую быть уныл. Если вы приходите здесь с усмешкой на вашем сердце, то я надеюсь что вы выходите здесь такой же путь.
Вы все еще думаете что вещи невозможны.
Я здесь сказать вам что они нет. Вы думаете что свобода независимость.
Я здесь сказать что более лучшие свободы, котор нужно найти.
Вы хотите сокровище как раз посмотреть на ем.
Я здесь показать вам волшебные королевства которые unravel улицы золота.
Вы приходите здесь чувствующ нелюбимый. Я здесь прошептать тому я тебя люблю.
Вы пришли здесь чувствующ усилены вне о вашей жизни. Я здесь препятствовать вам забыть о внешнем мире на миг.
Salud!

When brown eyes are crying

"Don't cry brown eyes."

The voice came out of nowhere, waking me up. I found myself in an embrace, buried in a bosom and fingers stroking my hair.

I looked around but no one was there, not even the priest. The train rode steadily on through the night. Landcapes and Martian worlds passed by my window. I must have been dreaming a dream.

Echoed voices. Softly. It was my memory playing tricks on me. I have always been on this train. No one has ever called me brown eyes or is that the lie? I remember Egypt and Paris, but I don't remember her name.

No. I am sure you loved me. Maybe I read it in a comic book and took created it to become my own memory. Lois Lane to Superman perhaps? MJ to Spiderman? It doesn't matter. Does it? I hear a whispered yes and that is good enough for me.

I turned to Isaiah. "This is the way, walk in it", and I will try. That's all I can do is try. I can try to love you more than I did yesterday and I can try harder to follow the course that He has me on. None of it makes much sense, but nothing ever does.

The baby is sleeping now. Her tubes removed from her lungs. The engines of this train are humming, synchronized to the rhythm of her heartbeat. Rest easy little one, tomorrow is going to be another day.

CBC News - Politics - Academics slam suspension of Parliament

You know that when the academics get on board to criticize something, you know it has to be good...just like all of the Global Warming hot air they are spewing.

CBC News - Politics - Academics slam suspension of Parliament

Put down your slide rulers boys and come out from behind your desks and see what is really happening in the world and see what John Q Public thinks.

On fire

I feel as though I am truly on fire for the Lord. But maybe I am on fire for myself. Or maybe I am on fire for you.

Don't be afraid to step forward. Let your voice be heard in the midst of the insanity. As the Clash once sang,:

"Let fury have the hour, anger can be power
D'you know how you can use it?'

Step forward. Speak what is on your heart. Shout, scream, dance. Do whatever you need to do to feel free.

I can hear you. Believe me. I can hear hear you.

This train is going faster through the night. Some stars have popped up on our right, some fireside landscaped painted on the left. No stops, no rest. A bottle of Scotch, a Bible and a litany of prayers to carry us through this good night.

A little boy is playing with dinky toys on a suicidal death drop. His sister watches impatiently, knowing that her turn will never come. Her salvation will come before she is allowed to play with his toys.

Red light in the distance. Some smoke coming from the dining car. Chicken both crossed the other side. An old joke there but it escapes me. What escapes you? Did you trade your heroes for ghosts after all? Has your disillusioned ball shattered on the dance floor?

If I hung up on you. I am sorry. We never did say goodbye. Did we even say hello?

US General's Plan for Iran

Petraeus: U.S. has plan to deal with Iran's nuclear program

I know what this plan is.

My super secret sources have told me that their plan consists of letting Iran and Russia, bomb the snot out of Israel and then have another reason to say they (the U.S.) are going to fight for democracy and for the peaceful foundation of a new world order where tyranny is a thing of the past...

Remember that you read it here first!

Albuquerque and beyond

Train is picking up steam. I was able to snap a quick pic yesterday as we wove through this world and the next.

But as we headed out to tomorrow, I began to think, which can be a dangerous thing at my age. No TV mass induced medium for me, just pure thought based on a lifetime of snowflakes.

The priest and I got into a pretty good argument about salvation, love and redemption.He was filled with the self righteous indignation that Christ warns about, but I  listened to him. He doesn't really believe in anything anymore, perhaps only in the sanctity of Mother Mary and himself. At least that is something.

Does love ever die? Are you afraid to tell it to me, even now? Art never dies, but the artist does. Do lovers ever die? Can love reach past the flesh, the mortal coil that strangles us all?

I got up and went to the back of the train last night, pondering these questions. I stepped out on the back of the caboose and let the winds carry away my whisper: I love you.

Global warming? I don't think so.

Today's headlines:


Winter Could Be Worst in 25 Years for USA...

CHILL MAP...

Britain's big snow shuts cities...

GAS SUPPLIES RUNNING OUT IN UK...


Elderly burn books for warmth?

Army drafted to rescue 1,000 snow stranded motorists...

Vermont sets 'all-time record for one snowstorm'...

Iowa temps 'a solid 30 degrees below normal'...

Seoul buried in heaviest snowfall in 70 years...


3 die in fire at Detroit home; power was cut...

Midwest Sees Near-Record Lows, Snow By The Foot...

Miami shivers from coldest weather in decade; Florida Gov Signs Emergency Order ...


Cold snap spurs power rationing in China...