I can't take it anymore

Unlike some of youse highbrow connoisseurs of fine literature, I tend to read whatever's lying around, like a clearance copy of 1916 by Morgan Llywelyn that Alex had picked up from work, on a whim I'm sure, because of it's subject matter.

I'm on page 177. On page 175 was this sentence : "He's a mathematics teacher from County Limerick. Name's Eamon de Valera. He's half Irish and half Spanish, but I heard somewhere he was born in America."

The main character's Ned, a scrappy young lad who survived the Titanic just to be subjected to clunky, expository dialogue such as this. Oh the humanity!

I'm back... or was I ever really here?

Well, was I?

Does anybody really know what time it is?

Does anybody really care

ABOUT TIME?????

Man, that just blew my mind!

i want to meet her
the woman who makes you so happy
they can read it on your fingertips while
if they knew me
they'd have to see it in my dreams

a ring and a different name
i go through life not me but you and

sometimes i wish i could just fade away melt
no one would know the difference
i am just and

There are times in everyone's life when they must come face to face with their limitations and realize that they are ordinary, no more , no less. And, dammit, it hurts. The pain starts in your chest and works it's way down to your stomach, like some parasitic worm, ready to choke the very life from you. It devours your daydreams of escaping your mundane workaday life.

...you can't help respecting anybody who can spell TUESDAY, even if he doesn't spell it right; but spelling isn't everything. There are days when spelling Tuesday simply doesn't count.

I dreamt of books above the loch and you were the pages I read. In your eyes I saw the story of our life and I want to believe I'll never cry again.

Albums from Alex

Driving home from West Bend listening to American Beauty and Heartbreaker made me feel as if you were with me even though we had just parted.