Some things transpired in this life of mine as of late:

I've lost 19 pounds since mid-summer.  I'm now officially back to my military (jungle fighting) weight.  And making use of clothes I haven't worn for years.

I recently won an award for hacking.  Ethical hacking,  Yeah, believe it or not, the industry considers some forms of hacking (by the 'good guys') as 'ethical hacking'.  Enough said about that. 

I've quit drinking coffee entirely.  Nor is beer any longer an adjunct to my daily activities.

I have discovered that I can actually stop running for awhile and not only get along but thrive.

I have rediscovered the joy of sleeping.

I have grown younger in desire, spirit, and mind.

I still have some severe personal handicaps hindering me from attaining even a greater degree of self-betterment, but I've got a plan for enslaving them and selling them on the world vice-slave market.

Now for the good news.  I feel like I'm about to make a great discovery.  No, don't ask me what.  It's just a feeling.  But it feels like one of those feelings that for me has always rung true.  This is self-fulfilling!  At worst, I'll discover that those feelings that for me have always rung true don't anymore.  ha!

I have come to the conclusion that truly living and blogging are inverse correlates.

So guess what I have been doing lately.

Still, there's a magic world here.  I have buried my treasues in it deeply.  Now to draw a map of it and secure it for future return ventures.

O, what does the future hold?   Can you tell me, please.

Will I be here tomorrow?  Will you?

Willing!

There is something I must do. 

Though I've been lost of late,  I've finally found my way back to my path, the path of the warrior.

Now I must slay myself.

I must crash and burn.

Can I not, like a phoenix, arise from my own ashes?   

I do believe that.  And I intend that.

For I am mindful that success awaits those who truly  intend.

I have always considered the following to be e.e.cumming's most simply expressed, richly-imaged, and starkly-beautiful poem.

I guess I'm mostly posting this for me: to get myself back into a poetry-writing mood.  I used to write and post poems here, you know.  But it's been a good, long time since the last one.

You see, it works like this:  When I see a moving, living poem (of another) up here on my blog, I begin thinking "I could have written that!"  And then, having fallen into such a self-delusional mood, I proceed more often than not, self-encouraged, to start writing my own poetry again. 

It has worked for me before.  Here's hoping it works again...

All in green my love went riding

All in green went my love riding
on a great horse of gold
into the silver dawn.

four lean hounds crouched low and smiling
the merry deer ran before.

Fleeter be they than dappled dreams
the swift sweet deer
the red rare deer.

Four red roebuck at a white water
the cruel bugle sang before.

Horn at hip went my love riding
riding the echo down
into the silver dawn.

four lean hounds crouched low and smiling
the level meadows ran before.

Softer be they than slippered sleep
the lean lithe deer
the fleet flown deer.

Four fleet does at a gold valley
the famished arrows sang before.

Bow at belt went my love riding
riding the mountain down into the silver dawn.

four lean hounds crouched low and smiling
the sheer peaks ran before.

Paler be they than daunting death
the sleek slim deer
the tall tense deer.

Four tall stags at a green mountain
the lucky hunter sang before.

All in green went my love riding
on a great horse of gold
into the silver dawn.

four lean hounds crouched low and smiling
my heart fell dead before.

So Xanga can live without me.  And I without it.  (Knowledge of new freedom is refreshing.) 

But things weren't always so.

Once upon a time, I couldn't live without Xanga.  Nor it without me (and assorted other xangarelics).  Yes, the latter claim is as true as the first one.  Or as false. 

It was grand to be part of the early Xanga experiment.  Yes, an experiment it was back in 2000-2002 when it morphed and spammed and adventured its way into the cyber-yearning hearts of us who were so amazed to see and be a part of such a sight (site). 

And now?  Xanga's a friggin institution of portentous social/financial proportions..  Insurance, insurance and more insurance lawyers law enforcement liaisons babysitting kiddie-bloggers possible takeovers forensic investigations of cybercrime controlled content constant media coverage and posturings for federation into the future Internet Hall of Fame.  If you take a moment here early in the morning, you can actually smell the freshly-wafting odor of the institutional-strength cleaner that the contracted cleaning crew uses to scrub the Xanga office toilet bowls squeaky clean.  That's a huge step up from that old Xanga office where they had to waddle across the street to the service station, borrow a key, and pee into the scummy stanky commodes that might or might not flush.  Hey, institutions have their advantages, too.

However, institutions are never magically adventuresome.   Not like Xanga used to be. 

No fault of John and the xangagods though.  They've done their best to keep it surreal. 

I wonder if anyone has named their newborn 'Eprop' yet?

shhh.  It's quiet here.   A good place to nurture thoughts in solitude.