have you noiced the look on a womans face when she first tastes a chocolate cookie or a fresh puff pastry, I have decided that if I can no longer make this happen, I should be able to make the cookie that does. So I was wondering if the awareness that life would not be as long as hoped was accompanied with the desire so see something pleasent accure to a woman you had something to do with this.

3 thoughts on “have you noiced the look on a womans face when she first tastes a chocolate cookie or a fresh puff pastry, I have decided that if I can no longer make this happen, I should be able to make the cookie that does. So I was wondering if the awareness that life would not be as long as hoped was accompanied with the desire so see something pleasent accure to a woman you had something to do with this.

  1. Should I measure life in minutes or heartbeats? Both seem finite and brittle. Those hot nights that lasted a lifetime defy the seconds that mocked by on the clock. You can count the age of my body but you won’t measure my life. They say if a person lived till 20 they would have more than enough experience to write the great love novel. How much more then do we bastards have! If the proof is in the experience, then compassion be my only proof. I have not grown wise from my folly, but I have leaned into the discomfort of vulnerability. Discovery be my only joy. Sculpture leaves me naked. Love flashes like an exposed nerve. Its achey symptoms leave a man desperate to do something wild. The year is new…what plot will push me now? certainly no clock, certainly no woman. Here you are with the choice to see what you want. Will you choose to see the world? She will embrace you, swallow you- you’ll never see it all. Should I narrow this wanderlust and focus it to a stiff point? I could paint my story with that point, use it to build a family instead of a flagpole for adventure.
    LAMENT
    Lament for my cock
    Sore and crucified
    I seek to know you
    Aquiring soulful wisdom
    You can open walls of mystery
    Stripshow
    How to aquire death in the morning show
    TV death which the child absorbs
    Deathwell mystery which makes me write
    Slow train, the death of my cock gives life
    Forgive the poor old people who gave us entry
    Taught us god in the child’s prayer in the night
    Guitar player
    Ancient wise satyr
    Sing your ode to my cock
    Caress it’s lament
    Stiffen and guide us, we frozen
    Lost cells
    I sacrifice my cock on the alter of silence
    -JimMorrison -theDick

  2. I have begun to see evey moment in my past that is related to anything I see or feel. its like life is replaying. I never do this before. before being when I was going to live forever. I have given up on some things I know will no longer be a part of lifes experieances for me, yet the smallest simulairity to a past moment will provoke a memory so sharp i could be living again, the past.
    I do not know what this means, you have been dying longer than I and perhaps you experieance this too, perhaps it means nothing and insteat of a quick flash before a catastrophic death you get a longer summery when death takes a couple years.
    Do we say we are dying if in fact we are physicaly capable, or is dying the body funtions shutting down. Do we care?

    • Amazing, to live life again and again… but thats a different story.
      Do we care? I don’t think of them.
      I do think be glad you don’t have alzheimer’s. Sure we will suffocate on dry land, I’ll probably drown in a warm bed someday dreaming of all the trouble I got into and bridges I burned but damn it the world will know i was here. The friends I had were not casual but tempest tossed salvors of life and experience. Perhaps you recognize pieces of your life playing back because your old:) Yes if I live to do what you have I’ll call that dying with style. The Best part is we can remember. Whatever waits beyond this body will be better understood because of the adventures undertaken while here walking tall in the sun and drinking coffee&shine on your porch. May we lean into the discomfort of the long beautiful summary of life before our bodies are snuffed. Ode to ponder whats next…
      “Death is the only adventure I have left”-James Hook

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