Friday, March 9, 2007
"Well, birthdays are merely symbolic of how another year has gone by and how little we've grown. No matter how desperate we are that someday a better self will emerge, with each flicker of the candles on the cake, we know it's not to be, that for the rest of our sad, wretched pathetic lives, this is who we areto the bitter end. Inevitably, irrevocably; happy birthday? No such thing."
This past tuesday was my 36th birthday: on the monkey bars of life I just let go of "30" rung and now I'm only holding the 40 and incredibly starting to swing my free arm towards the 50. how's that for an uninspiring thought.
Some disturbing things happened this week in the news. Some guy torched himself and his own two kids in a car in Springfield to get back at their mother, and another guy in Indiana picked his daughter up from school, went to the airport and flew himself and her in his plane into his in-laws house. If you're going to be coward enough to check out in some sort of spectacular fashion like that, do everyone a favor & drop the kiddies off at the Dream Machine with a couple of rolls of quarters and a king size pack of Spree, ok?