_moonbeam_

The new year has left me broke and sick, but I'm hoping that things pick up soon. Thank you for all of the birthday wishes and new year blessings - I wish the best for everyone the new year through

I've posted this before- but this is my favorite story, and seems somewhat appropriate...

"What would you do if you knew this was the last night of the world?"

"What would I do; you mean, seriously?"

"Yes, seriously."

"I don't know I hadn't thought. She turned the handle of the silver coffeepot toward him and placed the two cups in their saucers.

He poured some...
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It's almost the birth of me being old. I'm not too sure how I feel about this...

Defeat is not the worst of failures. Not to have tried is the true failure. Either way though, I'm feeling pretty fucking defeated.

That country where it is always turning late in the year. That country where the hills are fog and the rivers are mist; where noons go quickly, dusks and twilights linger, and midnights stay. That country composed in the main of cellars, sub-cellars, coal-bins, closets, attics, and pantries faced away from the sun. That country whose people are autumn people, thinking only autumn thoughts. Whose...
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The sick taking care of the lame. That's the scene being played out at my house.