O wind-drifted Branch, lift your head to the sun,
For the sap of new life in your veins hath begun,
And a little young bud of the tenderest green
Mine eyes through the snow and the sorrow have seen!
O little green bud, break and blow into flower,
Break and blow through the welcome of sunshine and shower;
'Twas a long night and dreary you hid there forlorn,
But now the cold hills wear the radiance of morn!
-Ethna Carbery
Yeah, I know it's a poem about spring and summer's right around the corner. Or maybe it's about love, remembered after lying dormant for so long. Maybe it's about new beginnings, or new friendships, or new hope...
Eh, whatever. It just kinda touched me when I read it last night.
Oh all the money that e'er I spent,
I spent it in good company,
And all the harm that I ever did,
Alas it was to none but me.
And since it falls, unto my lot,
That I should rise, and you should not,
I'll gently rise, and I'll softly call,
"Good night, and joy be with you all."
-Unknown (by me at least)
And the reason I know this little jingle (for it is a song) is that a minstrel that I saw once at a bar in Key West would sing this, with minor variations to the lyrics as the night progressed, every time he downed a pint of Guinness. And he downed a LOT of Guinness.
Well, today/tomorrow is the last day of my leave. No more time off for this guy until he leaves this little corner of the Orient. Five months and a week left to be here, then it's back to the world.
I look out my window and it's hazycast. Not really a word, but fitting none-the-less. I'll probably do the same thing today that I've done all week, which is a lot of fucking off. Oh, and getting pissed at the Postal Service for not getting me my mail. Fuckers.
Here's hoping you find your little green bud, and that you have fairer skies today than yesterday.
------------------------------------------------------------
Update: I recently witnessed a guy on a motorcycle (a Harley, no less), try to remove himself from the gene pool. He was looking back over his shoulder, presumably for his riding buddy, and slowly drifting into the path of an oncoming bus. For fuck's sake, people. If you're not going to pay attention to what you're doing, leave the riding to the ones who will. Oh, and I still hate the post office. This is getting re-damn-diculous.
For the sap of new life in your veins hath begun,
And a little young bud of the tenderest green
Mine eyes through the snow and the sorrow have seen!
O little green bud, break and blow into flower,
Break and blow through the welcome of sunshine and shower;
'Twas a long night and dreary you hid there forlorn,
But now the cold hills wear the radiance of morn!
-Ethna Carbery
Yeah, I know it's a poem about spring and summer's right around the corner. Or maybe it's about love, remembered after lying dormant for so long. Maybe it's about new beginnings, or new friendships, or new hope...
Eh, whatever. It just kinda touched me when I read it last night.
Oh all the money that e'er I spent,
I spent it in good company,
And all the harm that I ever did,
Alas it was to none but me.
And since it falls, unto my lot,
That I should rise, and you should not,
I'll gently rise, and I'll softly call,
"Good night, and joy be with you all."
-Unknown (by me at least)
And the reason I know this little jingle (for it is a song) is that a minstrel that I saw once at a bar in Key West would sing this, with minor variations to the lyrics as the night progressed, every time he downed a pint of Guinness. And he downed a LOT of Guinness.
Well, today/tomorrow is the last day of my leave. No more time off for this guy until he leaves this little corner of the Orient. Five months and a week left to be here, then it's back to the world.
I look out my window and it's hazycast. Not really a word, but fitting none-the-less. I'll probably do the same thing today that I've done all week, which is a lot of fucking off. Oh, and getting pissed at the Postal Service for not getting me my mail. Fuckers.
Here's hoping you find your little green bud, and that you have fairer skies today than yesterday.
------------------------------------------------------------
Update: I recently witnessed a guy on a motorcycle (a Harley, no less), try to remove himself from the gene pool. He was looking back over his shoulder, presumably for his riding buddy, and slowly drifting into the path of an oncoming bus. For fuck's sake, people. If you're not going to pay attention to what you're doing, leave the riding to the ones who will. Oh, and I still hate the post office. This is getting re-damn-diculous.
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good morning Jerry (it is morning...right?)