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Fragmentary glimpses of another me
I keep catching little bits of poetry out of the corner of my eye. They hang on the walls around me like half-seen unfinished paintings in a studio. It is almost maddening to catch another glimpse of one, then feel it slip away again. I must sit down this afternoon with a pen and paper and just write. Maybe I should disconnect the phone and put electronic eye on again...
Enjoying it while it lasts
I am getting slowly better from this operation. Feeling is returning to my leg gradually and I am regaining a lot of movement coming back. Of course this means that I will have to return to work and all the stress that entails. I think that another 2 weeks off will suit me just fine. Maybe I will be able to get ADSL and no longer worry about daytime phone charges...
19 days to go...
Is it the thought that counts?
I am wondering whether or not gifts are too easy to send. Just log onto a website and click a few buttons to get some third party to send a book or gift to someone. That is OK; in our society we put great importance on capital expenditure. If I spend x I love you this much, but 3x means I love you so much more? Even Charity is measured by how much money you give, how ostentatious the demonstration.
But reading something to your beloved that you have written especially for them and only for them? That is a gift that enriches both the giver and receiver far more than a 2 minute e-commerce special. Spending several hours writing a story, then reading to someone has to be a crowning acheivement in my life. Making her feel special makes me feel special and we both know it...
*Sigh*