much to do about no thing

My To Do List:
1. Laugh
2. Evaporate all bounds (Redundant to #1)
3. Wad this list into a little ball and eat it.
4. Face and deal with all that arises as it arises.

my new geezer business card

some things you just can't tell

Some things you just can't tell other people as you grow older. They'll say you are complaining (but the body DOES go through peculiar spells of change) or hallucinating (but angels DO exist). So one keeps quiet. You can feel the nearness of dying and of death, though these twin angels (only two of many) sit quietly and with decorum awaiting their turn. You are not to speak of them or the hallucination charge will be trotted out again along with New Age talk of light and cheer with its underlying accusation that you are losing faith and are depressed. Nor can you speak of the serenity you feel with its accompanying knowledge that you need do nothing but live here in this moment, or knowing glances and raised eyebrows reveal the forthcoming insistence that you join a health club, go meet some people, take up a new hobby. Those not here yet live in a go go progress must be made world. They are still living FOR the future. They can not comprehend that you are living IN the future, which is NOW. Some things you just can't tell other people as you grow older.

hair on the cue ball

Hairs grow out of my head. Little spools of hair between the skin and skull continuously unfurling. I whack 'em from time to time with various sharp implements -- weed eaters of the head. They'll outlive me. As will the fingernails and toenails. Feeding off my body until there is no nourishment left. Unless of course I go the incineration route. That'll teach 'em! I won't let them go on without me. Kind of romantic in a way. Like lovers leaping together from a cliff, bound forever in their de-termination.