The Letters: (#1)

Dearest secret friend,

Today, I was walking in a park through the finest greenery my eyes have seen in weeks, when my thoughts moved from merely enjoying my surroundings to thinking of you. It was then I realized I missed you.

You and I have walked that trail before on numerous occasions. I say numerous instead of countless because we probably could count the number of times we have walked it. I suppose that is what made me think of you in the first place. The small number of times brought the memory to mind. The association the mind makes between person and place always interests me. On occasion I am saddened by whichever memory it is, other times I am made glad, but either time I am entertained and taken out of the present with its own worries to a different place. That place is not the past, but a mixture of then and now; it always gives me a new perspective on today. I suppose that is the point of memories.

I was thinking about you and I wished you were with me, not because I was lonely -it was not that- it was because I wished you could experience what I was seeing and how I was seeing: The way the light was showing through the trees.

There is a rock. I hate it. But I love it as well. I find it incredible how we can hate and love at the same time. You know, dear friend, I think human beings are the only domicile in the universe where such real feelings of hatred and love coexist in such contradiction. Well, just the living ones anyway; the dead ones either hate or love, they can't and don't do both.

I love love and hate. They can be nouns and verbs and adjectives and more. That's so cool.

Cool. Yeah. Like you.

PS. (I could not summon up a picture of a forest or a rock, so this picture of the unfinished Ryugyong Hotel will have to do.)

That which you haven't seen before.

He had not ever seen one of those before, although it had been around for a while. Even I do not know why he had not seen one before. Maybe he had been sheltered. Maybe it had been disguised. I think he was lying. I think he had seen one before and was just lying. I do not know why he would lie. Maybe it was pride. Maybe it was shame. Regardless, he seemed ready enough to accept it. The challenge.

I hovered around for a while while he got used to it, but I had to go. He seemed up to the task. I suppose I was wrong. It ate him.

I came back the next morning to find pieces of him scattered throughout the plaza.

Naivety.

On both our parts.

But mostly his.

Next time I will do better. He won't.

Justin Bieber

I like it when famous people actually have talent.

The Fear that lives inside me:

I'm afraid to write something brilliant and have it stolen.

The Lego Bible

http://www.thebricktestament.com/

The Most Beautiful Picture I Have Ever Seen.

Relative Pronouns and the like

Distinguished by his burly figure and lengthy beard, the fattest man ever began his descent down the longest staircase in the world in an attempt to shatter the longest held world record of all time. Determination littered his face like glittery diamonds forever sparkling as if held in a timeless state. Sweat beaded and rolled down his face. Thinking thoughts of thankfulness for his own hydration, the fat man stepped on.

Princesses, Princes, Queens, Kings, and every other person of importance from all ends of the Earth had gathered and were now awestruck and enthused as they watched in anxious curiosity the fat man and his great courage. One wrong misstep was all it would take, and the fat man would be off and rolling as if he were the sweat and the stairs were his face.

Some say it were angels that were with him that day, but I say it was God himself. The day the fat man conquered the staircase and put hope back into the hearts of all human beings, was the true beginning of everything good.