and she said.. "how you interpret the dream is probably more important than the dream itself"

It's been said that everything that's worth doing has been done already and they may be right but they'd be awfully pessimistic to think so, don't you think?

Everyday I stare blankly at this little box - this blogger form - where I attempt to crack open my head and spill the lumpy contents out for you. I try to work my skull open like a tin can with a very basic rudimentary opener. Not an electric one or even a manual mechanical one, but one of those old hiking can-openers where you have to punch around the edge of the can yourself - that's what I feel like I am using to open my head up for you. Every day I have ideas, lumpy mushy ones like stewed tomatoes, and I sift through the refuse with a stick, poking at the plump looking ones. Every day I look for something ripe but they're all over-ripe most of the time. I'd be pleased enough to find a small hard immature one hiding among the pile, all white and small and albino like.. something I could work with anyway, to leave on my window sill in the sun.. That way I could give you something to look forward to. Like a phone call.

But they say it's all been done so there isn't much to look forward to, is there? Just lots to look backwards to. No wonder we have such complexes, us humans. We look forward to the past and hope our hope is not a hope for a future it's a hope not for the past.. That's like asking for "not something crappy" for Christmas. I don't think it works that way.

But I don't really know. Maybe they're wrong. Maybe it hasn't all been done.

And if it hasn't than goddamnit I want to do it. Right now. Bring it on. You think drinking beer has been done? Cause that's about what I feel like doing right now..

It's 4:30pm and it's already dark out here in the port city. The good people are going home or thinking about going home - early, because it's wednesday that feels like friday. They'll be going home to their wives and their husbands and their kids and their parents soon and they'll be sighing a quite sigh. A sigh of relief of resolve of hardship of doubt. They'll sigh contentedly as they settle into the couch. They'll sigh forlornly at the new bills in the mailbox and the old bills on the table and they'll look around and maybe see a Christmas tree or the candles of Hanukkah or the pole of festivus. They'll sigh a sigh of relief when they count all the little heads running around and through their legs and the number comes out right and then, maybe, they'll just sigh.. for no good reason.

Maybe they did it last year and maybe they'll do it next year too. Maybe it's been done before and most probably it'll be done again. Would they be wrong to do it?

Someone once said "There is no sense in being pessimistic. It would not work anyway."

So with that being said, let's get in the giving mood.

"The fragrance remains in the hand that gave the rose"

There. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it's holiday cheer.