It’s the to and fro of life that keeps me interested—sadness and joy, hopefulness and desperation, calm and tumult. I could say that I am on a roller coaster that leads me up and down and down and up through each and every phase of feeling but it would be more accurate to say that I am strapped in on a rocket that catapults me into and out of whatever comes my way.
I only know that the whole big shebang of it waxes and wanes. It comes and goes. It envelopes and then recedes.
As the years have washed over me I’ve found a way to keep my footing. I plunge myself forward, with the confidence of one who conquers or I’ve retreated into darkness and solitude, knowing that eventually I will emerge again, unscathed.
Regardless, I’ve somehow found some kind of quirky rhythm that feeds my spirit and rejuvenates my soul without taking away all the things I’ve worked to cultivate—the way the moon comes and goes—I appear and disappear in a way that maintains my own shaky individuality and I find my way, barely, into the night sky, smiling.
Yours In Inching Forward,
Sometimes on Saturday, after our parents participate in an early morning to mid-afternoon do nothing time due to the hectic schedule they kept over Christmas, we like to perk up their spirits by putting on a small scale production we like to call The Birth Of Jesus, with us in a starring role as whats-his-face, one of the Three Wise Men, knowing that when they see our dramatic acting abilities they will be motivated to get off their lazy, boring asses.
Yours In Myrrh,
Dave Do Something
854. People who take their Christmas trees down the day after Christmas
855. People who choose a random spot in the neighborhood to dump their dead Christmas tree
856. Boxing Day
Sometimes on Saturday, after a perfect morning filled with an exhilarating morning walk followed up with a kick-ass breakfast made up of our favorite kibble and roast turkey, we like to get our cra-za-zy on and hurl ourselves into the cozy blankets that bring us so much joy, all the while saying to our Mom and Dad, Thank You Thank You Thank You for making us so deliriously happy.
Yours In Slobberey Gratitude,
Cooper of the Quite Content