Stop asking for feedback. Stop speaking of loneliness. Stop inviting us to engage in discourse, Share our ideas, Hear your voice. Stop sharing snippets of your world. Stop referencing your single status If you are going to be So cool So aloof So detached So disinterested So abrupt So completely ambivalent When someone who is amazing decides they want to poke you.
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At Easter, I don’t celebrate the Resurrection. I find it hard to buy into. Instead, I turn my thoughts to rebirth, rejuvenation; coming into the light again after a period of darkness. I suppose you could say that I postpone my Spring Equinox festivities to a later date when I can celebrate with family and friends, who I am sure are also not celebrating the Resurrection; at least not in a literal sense. (I’m experimenting with semi-colon. Please let me know how I am doing.) I ran some errands in Bloor West Village yesterday. I saw not one but two…
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Finally – Rosiehardy – Flickr I spend too much time on Facebook. The iPhone didn’t help with this problem. As I grapple with this, I’m trying not to judge myself too much for it. Hopefully it will lead to greater communication skills and meaningful relationships. Yesterday, while chatting with someone (Facebook chat) I realized that I had somehow installed an application called “Honesty Box”. This disturbed me. First, because I had no recollection of installing such a thing. Second, because the very principal behind it is ridiculous; the idea is for people to anonymously post what they really think of…
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Solitude – Rosiehardy – Flickr It has indeed been a Good Friday, so far. I hatched a hilarious plan before bed last night, and look forward to hashing it out with some friends over dinner this evening. If properly executed, it could be a source of endless hijinks and amusement. At this point it’s a secret, but you can bet I’ll be writing about it on my own. Hatching this plan made everything seem a little lighter today. I didn’t sleep very well. The full moon made me crazy, and then the ass of a friend accidentally called me from…
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These Walls I Can Take – Rosiehardie – Flickr However, I will still post my Thursday poem… Fierce victories for these tiny warriors;With every step each foot placed before the otherMarching towards over-priced coffee,and outlook,and too many carbohydrates for lunch.Pressed shirts, coats thoroughly caressed by the lint roller,and for a lucky few a pat on the ass on the way out the door. There’s one who wears a hand knit hat with flaps for his ears, in spite of his charcoal gray suit;One last vestige of his days of touring with improvisational folk rock bands.He’s old enough now to be…
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