Feels like invisible
no one can see me, but through me, never inside of me
a social quarantine, so absurd, so undeserved; a sucker punch to my internal notion of bravado
it’s the sudden realization of the parallel lines in my life that make it so
invisible . . .

Feels like invisible
not wanting the outside in, the vast shores of my life littered with too many complex intangibles,
opaque panes of cracking glass concealing inadequate truths, bruised skies of lies and the tattered directions to a place Google will never find, written on a discarded paper napkin,
the raindrops fall, rendering the Zhivago ink
invisible . . .

Feels like invisible
wounds, mainly self-inflicted; the worst and the thin, slicing kind
(they never heal and don’t bleed)
you’ll never see them, hemorrhaging my insides
but there’s a mirror in my mind, foggy and grey
and I reach out my hand and with my thumb, I slowly trace the letters:
i-n-v-i-s-i-b-l-e . . .
a shattered mosaic of my face stares back from deep within the dripping script;
the parallel lines of life and light making me a virtual prisoner, a blurred stranger in my own midst

Feels like invisible,
but not like everyday, but maybe for today,
it feels just like I do
invisible

These are supposedly comments written on report cards by teachers from a public school in New York City.
While I can’t actually believe they are true, they are incredibly funny.
Received these through an email from my buddy Henry.
He never bothers to check the authenticity, probably why most of his emails are so damn funny.
I have a few days off from work and will be somewhat absent from the blog.
Not really going anywhere but I need some downtime.
I really do.
I’m going to try like hell to visit some folks tonight that I haven’t visited in a while.
Two blogs to maintain has left me speechless.
Head over to Moe’s to see a few interesting things from me.
In the meantime, be safe and be well.
Enjoy these comments.

1. Since my last report, your child has reached rock bottom and has started to dig.
2. I would not allow this student to breed.
3. Your child has delusions of adequacy.
4. Your son is depriving a village somewhere of an idiot.
5. Your son sets low personal standards and then consistently fails to achieve them.
6. The student has a ‘full six-pack’ but lacks the plastic thing to hold it all together.
7. This child has been working with glue too much.
8. When your daughter’s IQ reaches 50, she should sell.
9. The gates are down, the lights are flashing, but the train isn’t coming.
10. If this student were any more stupid, he’d have to be watered twice a week.
11. It’s impossible to believe the sperm that created this child beat out 1,000,000 others.
12. The wheel is turning but the hamster is definitely dead.

Is it possible that angels walk among us?
I’ve never given serious thought to that question before but I’m beginning to think that the possibility actually exists.
I believe I may have one.
I’m mentioning names here or whether it’s a man or a woman.
It doesn’t really matter, does it?
I will clarify one issue by saying that if you’re on my blogroll, it’s definitely not you.
Don’t take it personally; you are all angels to me in some sense of the word.

There is a person in my life right now that almost fills my own personal notion of an angel.
A George Burns?
God, no.
I think I may be losing it

It’s comes down to a feeling I get when this person asks how I’m doing.

I answer this person honestly, something I don’t usually do with anyone aside from my wife (and yes, she is one of my favorite angels).
The conversation between this ‘angel’ and me is nothing weird or intrusive, it just is.
But it has a depth to it that I just can’t explain.
Just thinking a little bit more about this than usual today, I guess.
I checked my Gmail tonight and received a personal message from a Smoke and Mirrors reader. (so many out there, huh?)
I got a chill when I read the e-mail’s title: Angel’s Poem
A God wink?
Who knows?
Maybe my angel does . . .

My sister and I have noticed some changes in our father.
Whenever we talk to him about ‘old times’ (instead of just sitting there staring vacantly out the window) his eyes fill with tears. He’s not totally crying but something is definitely going on.
We wonder what’s really going through his mind?
It was this thought and some help from the band “Tears for Fears” that are responsible for the inspiration behind this post.
I didn’t plan on posting tonight but sometimes you just have to let some of your writing go.

the Size of Sorrow

Carbon-copy days
Stain my mimeographed life
Wondering if today is some strange and future tomorrow

Time meanders away
some perpetual 36-hour day
But what is the size of sorrow?

a Fool on the hill
a sad silhouette of your absence
what remains breaks the heart of the borrow

Tomorrow is near
like an invisible tear
I’m wondering what is the size of your sorrow?

~m

I’ve been out straight with all sorts of things lately but I saw this video and had to post it.
As a musician, I am in awe of this guy.
Not sure if he came before ‘August Rush’ or if he was the actual inspiration for it.
Judging from the movie clips I’ve seen, the August Rush kid smiles way too much for my comfort.
Kinda freaky and ala the Shining, so very unlike Mongrain.
Check it out.
Crazy.
This is some tres cool shit.
Off to bed, folks.

~m

Nothing like starting the week off with a little bit of Victor Wooten.
You’ve never heard Norwegian Wood played like this.
And if you have, let me know what planet you were on . . .
Enjoy.
w00t!

[youtube=http://youtube.com/watch?v=f9a4ThBNacY]

~m

Be back with all of you in a few days.
Busy weekend and I need some sleep.
The comments are appreciated as always.
I will catch up.
Promise.
Until next time, a very special thank you to AMR for this

~m

I felt a need to lighten things up a bit here with something not so downtrodden.
I’m a huge fan of Christopher Walken and saw this video on Rain’s blog.
I just had to share it with you folks.

While I’m at it I’d like to offer all bloggers this very important card:

Yes, folks, it’s the Blogger Emergency ID card.
Print it out and use it.
It may come in handy someday all depending on your actual date of departure from parts unknown.
Kudos to the ingenious Moonbeam, a brilliant blogger (and a woman that has already printed out numerous copies of this ID card for her immediate family, butcher, baker and candlestick maker)

Have a bitchin’ weekend, folks.
Here in the Northeast we’re preparing for a deluge of Noah’s Ark proportions . . .
Now where the hell are the 4m Salties?

later gators,

~m

“When you come to a fork in the road, take it.” ~Yogi Berra
Hmmm, some serious food for thought there . . .

~m

“In the first place, we should insist that if the immigrant who comes here in good faith becomes an American and assimilates himself to us, he shall be treated on an exact equality with everyone else, for it is an outrage to discriminate against any such man because of creed, or birthplace, or origin. But this is predicated upon the person’s becoming in every facet an American, and nothing but an American…There can be no divided allegiance here. Any man who says he is an American, but something else also, isn’t an American at all. We have room for but one flag, the American flag… We have room for but one language here, and that is the English language… and we have room for but one sole loyalty and that is a loyalty to the American people.”

~Theodore Roosevelt 1907

Got the above in an email last week, verified the information and posted it.
I love the quote because of its honesty and total specificity.
You rock, cowboy.

~m