I bought a copy of Roy Hill's The Warriors. One of my all time favorite films, and I watched it this morning and . . . yeah, still a campy, comicbook reality . . . and still wonderful to watch!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NwwY9y6O3hw
Hard to drag my body from that "little death" this morning. Did get up long enough to call David. He wanted to get up at 11. But he decided that getting his new phone back (he broke the screen while playing Pokémon on the streets . . . at night!) right away wasn't that urgent . . . although he's been bitching up a storm about having to relearn how to use the old one, which he used as his new phone got itself fixed. Ha! Sounds like I'm talking about a dog instead of a phone.
10:45pm
So, my apartment is beginning to reach burning hell temperatures. Man! I'm in shorts, a sleeveless T-shirt, sandals, air-conditioner set on high! And I'm sweatin' like'a sophomore going to his first prom. Yeah, it's THAT HOT! I need to call the landlord and get this air-conditioner working. Right now it's like a glorified wall fan. I mean. I just got the thing last summer and it worked great! But not now.
So, big day tomorrow. The OU Theatre & Dance 1970s reunion starts tomorrow night. AND after that . . . off with the boys to see John Wick 3 at the Regal 14. Not sure if I'll make dinner with David and his family tomorrow before the reunion . . . not sure I'll make it to the reunion . . . tomorrow night at 7pm is the final episode of The Big Bang Theory and I really don't want to miss that!
Anyway, out and about yesterday on the bike and it really felt good, my lungs did okay, body was holding its own . . . but when I woke up this morning . . . uuuuugh! I could barely stand up. Still, not quite over it either. I may write later.
Thursday, May 16, 2o19
Here's a poem I wrote last night for the reunion that, if I got it right, starts today.
If the poem is too small to read, try clicking on it with your mouse and that should open a larger window for it.
5:16pm
The GOT battle is still going on . . . a fan petition is being passed around the internet petitioning the Game of Thrones production team to fire the lead writers, hire new writers to rewrite the whole last season. I'd cuss at this point . . . but why bother. Beckett said it best, "People are bloody ignorant apes."
Saturday, May 18, 2o19
Yeah, I missed a day. Sorry. Spent more time with the reunion folks. Nice to see some of the crowd I used to run with, do plays with back at OU Drama. Most are no longer in theatre . . . but there are some still hacking out a bit of a living as actors and acting teachers. Good for them.
Through this reunion, I got back in touch with my friend Kimm. One of the people from my past that I've sort of stayed in touch with . . . a bit. Kimm was a dancer at OU. She's still a dancer. This animation I made from several pics I took of her when we went to a museum in Tulsa proves that she still gots the moves. We fall out of contact, me and Kimm, but we always seem to find ourselves back in each other's lives. Yeah. Good to see her today.
Sunday, May 19, 2o19 1:02am
Okay, I have got to STOP arguing with morons on the internet. It's just a waste of time to try and explain anything to people who won't listen. I give up. Stay stupid, my friends. I'm done with you.
2:49am
I allow myself to get lost within the cracks of this existence. My mouth is the villain here. It just talks, talks, talks . . . a unquenchable wind that speaks in a tongue that I can't begin to understand . . . my friends too just look baffled when ever this unintelligible wind blows . . . thar she blows! The Moby Dick of gibberish. A dragon that shoots fire from its nostrils, and foamy spit from its lizard-like mouth!
I have forgotten in my old age how to dream. Sleep is no more than an empty, dark tomb, and I am so surprised when I open my eyes and realize . . . I'm still among the breathers, the fleshy things that scar and torment our dear Earth with such ferocity that they even frighten themselves.
2:09pm
Me. I need to forget Me. The Me I am within the dirty memes of memory. Me. Abused, accused and found guilty of being alive. But don't get my mood wrong. I was never on the nice list. My abuses against the world are far more grievous than all the harms this world has laid on me. My sins are as many as my pains, my overall sadness for what has become of Me. Poor Me. {smiles}
5:50pm
To be. That is the question. Well, no it isn't, is it? A question? A statement . . .? Who knows. I need more foot time . . . out on the street . . . on the grass . . . in the mud with the other . . . creatures like me. I need rain. A good solid, steady rain . . . a rain a man can depend on. An honorable rain . . . a gentle rain that falls like feathers in the sunset . . . a tougher rain, a rain of strength and courage . . . when I wake up. If I wake up. A loving rain that coaxes me out of the dead dream and shows me all the suffering I've missed while sleeping. Rain, rain . . . do not leave me.
Tuesday, May 21, 2019
My dear friends, I must apologize for missing a day of writing on this blog. Please forgive me. I won't make excuses for my neglect. However, I do have a birthday coming up and I have put
myself in this responsibility box, which I can't get out of. I have sworn myself to the life long drudgery of writing at least ONE, long (excruciatingly long sometimes) poem celebrating me achieving one more year of age. Which at my age IS an accomplishment, and yes, I know, there are plenty of you out there that are older, much older in some cases, than me. You wonder why my longevity that I celebrate with such fanfare should be the ONLY existence I should celebrate? But I don't just raise a glass of ice tea (unsweetened) in honor of myself . . . most everyone who I know on Facebook gets from me an animated birthday meme . . . granted, I have recently NOT made an individual birthday animation for everyone of you . . . but only because there are so DAMN many of you these days . . . !we are as a species living longer . . . much longer than most people think we should be living. But that is a debate for another day . . . So, I have finished this month's third week of blog entries. I shall now go on and work on the b-day poems and art work so they will be ready to post on the 23rd of May. {smiles}
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NwwY9y6O3hw
Hard to drag my body from that "little death" this morning. Did get up long enough to call David. He wanted to get up at 11. But he decided that getting his new phone back (he broke the screen while playing Pokémon on the streets . . . at night!) right away wasn't that urgent . . . although he's been bitching up a storm about having to relearn how to use the old one, which he used as his new phone got itself fixed. Ha! Sounds like I'm talking about a dog instead of a phone.
10:45pm
So, big day tomorrow. The OU Theatre & Dance 1970s reunion starts tomorrow night. AND after that . . . off with the boys to see John Wick 3 at the Regal 14. Not sure if I'll make dinner with David and his family tomorrow before the reunion . . . not sure I'll make it to the reunion . . . tomorrow night at 7pm is the final episode of The Big Bang Theory and I really don't want to miss that!
Anyway, out and about yesterday on the bike and it really felt good, my lungs did okay, body was holding its own . . . but when I woke up this morning . . . uuuuugh! I could barely stand up. Still, not quite over it either. I may write later.
Thursday, May 16, 2o19
Here's a poem I wrote last night for the reunion that, if I got it right, starts today.
5:16pm
The GOT battle is still going on . . . a fan petition is being passed around the internet petitioning the Game of Thrones production team to fire the lead writers, hire new writers to rewrite the whole last season. I'd cuss at this point . . . but why bother. Beckett said it best, "People are bloody ignorant apes."
Saturday, May 18, 2o19
Through this reunion, I got back in touch with my friend Kimm. One of the people from my past that I've sort of stayed in touch with . . . a bit. Kimm was a dancer at OU. She's still a dancer. This animation I made from several pics I took of her when we went to a museum in Tulsa proves that she still gots the moves. We fall out of contact, me and Kimm, but we always seem to find ourselves back in each other's lives. Yeah. Good to see her today.
Sunday, May 19, 2o19 1:02am
2:49am
I allow myself to get lost within the cracks of this existence. My mouth is the villain here. It just talks, talks, talks . . . a unquenchable wind that speaks in a tongue that I can't begin to understand . . . my friends too just look baffled when ever this unintelligible wind blows . . . thar she blows! The Moby Dick of gibberish. A dragon that shoots fire from its nostrils, and foamy spit from its lizard-like mouth!
I have forgotten in my old age how to dream. Sleep is no more than an empty, dark tomb, and I am so surprised when I open my eyes and realize . . . I'm still among the breathers, the fleshy things that scar and torment our dear Earth with such ferocity that they even frighten themselves.
2:09pm
5:50pm
To be. That is the question. Well, no it isn't, is it? A question? A statement . . .? Who knows. I need more foot time . . . out on the street . . . on the grass . . . in the mud with the other . . . creatures like me. I need rain. A good solid, steady rain . . . a rain a man can depend on. An honorable rain . . . a gentle rain that falls like feathers in the sunset . . . a tougher rain, a rain of strength and courage . . . when I wake up. If I wake up. A loving rain that coaxes me out of the dead dream and shows me all the suffering I've missed while sleeping. Rain, rain . . . do not leave me.
Tuesday, May 21, 2019
My dear friends, I must apologize for missing a day of writing on this blog. Please forgive me. I won't make excuses for my neglect. However, I do have a birthday coming up and I have put
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