Happy New Year The Daily {w}rite January 2020 wk. o3

Got a new superhero wallet as a Christmas present . . . today. Yes, belated. My sister and I had a hard time making room for a few hours to get together, have dinner and exchange gifts. She also got me a 3-D Spidey pic. I got her a dreamcatcher.

Ha! I got a letter from some sort of accounting service used by Medicare telling me that some of the charges for my chemo therapy Medicare won't pay for. The charges were for the hospital "renting" the space in the hospital for the Oncology department. Yeah. We cancer patients are paying the rent for our treatment stations. I don't know. It sounds weird. It be like going to McDonald's, ordering a hamburger and getting a bill for $102.45 to help pay their rent.

Got me a copy of Once Upon a Time in . . . Hollywood and I'm going to stop typing and watch it.

Thursday, January 16, 2o2o
A very cold day out there in Norman-town. I don't need to go outside to believe totally that it's REALLY cold out there. The weather map on the internet says that in Norman-town, at this moment, it is 40 degrees . . . that is bullshit! All the students marching passed my window are bagged up in thick  jackets, giant stocking caps (so large the kids have to keep pushing the head-warmers out of their eyes), Thick, extremely thick gloves, most of them wearing high top boots, and scarfs! Unmanly for a male to wear a scarf unless, of course, it's a duplicate of the  scarf Tom Baker wore as Doctor Who.

I think there comes a time as an artist when you believe you have nothing more to say as a poet. I've been in that mode for the last week or two. Yes, I've been writing poetry . . . everyday since the beginning of the year . . . but is it any good? Does it say something worth the time to the reader to . . . read? I don't know. But writing something is better than not writing. Maybe by luck I'll "accidently" write the greatest poem that ever graced the blank page. So, there's no giving up, copping out, turning my back on the whole artist thing. I can't do that. Poetry is a part of me . . . a leg . . . a hand . . . I can't just cut it out of my life. So, I'll go on and on until either my fingers fall off from typing so hard or my heart, my poet's heart finely crumbles to dust.

Friday, January 17, 2o2o
Reading an article on the Rare Earth Hypothesis. Whereas the past the Earth was thought to be the center of the universe with everything revolving around it . . . science "proved" that the Earth was not the center and that it was just "another planet." And further study of the universe made scientists hypothesize that Earth is more than likely NOT the only planet in the entire universe to have life on it. And we believe that to be true, mostly. I mean, some hardcore Christians still believe that life was created on Earth by God, and life as we know it does NOT exist anywhere else. AND I ran across the R.E.H. on a Facebook post . . . AND I did some research and came across this:

" The Rare Earth hypothesis argues that planets with complex life, like Earth, are exceptionally rare. In planetary astronomy and astrobiology, the Rare Earth hypothesis argues that the origin of life and the evolution of biological complexity such as sexually reproducing, multicellular organisms on Earth (and, subsequently, human intelligence) required an improbable combination of astrophysical and geological events and circumstances. According to the hypothesis, complex extraterrestrial life is an improbable phenomenon and likely to be rare. The term "Rare Earth" originates from Rare Earth: Why Complex Life Is Uncommon in the Universe (2000), a book by Peter Ward, a geologist and paleontologist, and Donald E. Brownlee, an astronomer and astrobiologist, both faculty members at the University of Washington." -Wikipedia

Yeah! I know! We sort of took a whole turn around on the idea that there must be other life, other Earths just like this one. 

Sunday, January 19, 2o2o

It is Sunday. Ah, Sunday. The day of rest that God took after building the entire universe and, of course, this lump of living clay, the Earth, and al things that live, exist upon it. I dream of God sometimes. I never seen God, which is one of His/Her many self-centered mysteries yet to be revealed. But why keep what God looks like a secret? Well, we suspect that God looks a lot like us: So God created man in His own image; in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them. But does He/She look like us? Perhaps image has to do with spirituality. Perhaps image is our ability to feel? We know this about God. He/She likes privacy. But why? Why hide from the world, from the children who because of you are here? Seems a bit like child abuse. 

Tuesday, January 21, 2o2o
One of my Facebook friends got back online after taking a break from social media and getting back . . . real communication between two people face to face . . . communicating like our ancestors used to do. I had to laugh. What a pompous, pretentious statement to make . . . I didn't criticize him on his post but it was REAL LOOOOOOOONG and said nothing. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_NYFq7ZJg4c

Well, this all for this week. January, flying by. See ya next week. {smiles}