It is better to have lost and loved than never to have lost at all.

Think not about it.

Then be happy.

For there is no winning, no losing.  At least, none that ultimately matters.

But love.  Nothing else remains forever manifest.

I simply wish there were a weblog entry editor that was circular in shape and swirled round and around with every word written sailing irreversibly inward toward the center of a whirling vortex to disappear and reappear automatically and immutably posted.  No editing.  Not taking back.  Black-hole blogging.  Give it up.

But it isn't so.

Further confirmation that my wishes are but wishes.

Just some reflections along the way...

I have finally re-learned how to enjoy sleep.  The art of sleeping was something that I lost while still a young child.

If the importance of today as a turning point in my life were dramatized on a global scale, you'd observe the North and South poles flipping their polarity: simple and easily-observed effects, readily-grasped as geo-monumental, yet having subtle and not well-understood long-term ramifications.

If you are a smart investor, you'll determine just where the few remnants of recreational ice and winter weather will yet persist about 40-50 years from now and invest in that ultimately-lucrative, forever-more coveted, future winterland resort.

What if I had the power to merely utter a word as an incantation and and bring it into realization?  I might well chose to utter "Harmony"  - secretly hoping and praying that I would not stutter on the first syllable.

Today's not yet over.  Perhaps there will be more reflections yet to come?

Don't worry - I'm not going to jump.

*jumps*

Well, I landed okay.  So don't worry anyway.

Actually, I just fell to Earth.  Like a man.  Like an airplane typically falls to Earth.  Except most people call that a landing.  But a landing is just a controlled fall.  So the difference between an airplane disaster and  a "you can now unbuckle your seat belts" is not the act of falling, but whether appropriate control is expressed.  Well, we know what's appropriate when it's a matter of a technology-devised wing approaching Earth.  But what of a man who has been soaring through unexplored reaches by means of heretofore undocumented, unchronicled psychic/psycoative means?

*jumps again*

You see.

So answer me this: How many of you have ever heard of an "entheogen" ?

Make love.  Leave war to me.

I had forgotten that I was a wealthy landowner (xangamnesia) until I searched Google for 'notforprophet' and found this:

Praise the all-knowing, never-forgetting Google!

A man has got to know his own intrinsic worth regardless of anything someone seems to know about him, regardless of anything someone claims to feel about him, regardless of any love truly professed that might do whatever true loves does to so soothingly postpone the raw coming of deep, individuating complete self-knowledge.

To any and all that have ever expressed or otherwise conveyed any love for me - whether publicly or otherwise, I now realize and here share back that I have failed in what such love yearns for as symmetrical and requisite completion.  Mea ultima culpa.

But all's not lost!  The world remains vulnerable to any and every earnest, exquisite attempt at self-quest: at self-reinvention.

And so I have become nobody.  And thus I strive to become again someone at least worthy of being the devoted servant of the least of the least ones still worthy and loving .

I rarely visit Dreamland anymore.  And yet I dream.  Dreaming other dreams.  And better ones.