Not quite, Boys and Gals! Woke up around four, dead ahead of my phone and the alarm clock, so I might be called ‘Best of Three’ today….

But seriously folks, this diddy that just got elected head of class ain’t half bad even if it is performed in a down in the dumps sort of way. Lot to be said for it, if you look at the lyrics instead of listening with your mind:

But then again, why bother? First page of lyrics for ‘late again’ that I bothered to consult in order to show you what I mean verbatim, came up empty as if to say: "Nah, you do it! You fill the bag, you’re Dutch Right? You fill the bag!"

A straight redistribute of John Fealey would be the cop-out: Not only did I post him last week, but SomeOne made a remix, so that would be a better choice now, Right?

Reminds me of what my dear old dad once said. He’s still alive, so don’t think for One Moment I’d be speaking ill of the dead.… Read the rest

3:33AM the alarm clock said, as I woke up and smelled something in my sphere of influence. It wasn’t the coffee yet, although that is currently permeating the air from it’s point of origin in the kitchen. Nope, the netbook revealed a lone coment, from a friend I had feared eaten by the langoliers. Do you remember those dreadful creatures that ate up the past, created by Stephen King in his book Four Past Midnight in 1990? I’m not a particular fan of horror, but I must admit that King is a master of the absurd, where Hitchcock merely mastered suspense…..

"Well, that ain’t no langolier!", I hear you say, and you are absolutely right! But it is related, as the following artist interview will show. But I couldn’t very well start off your day and mine with a 480 pixel wide horror of three multiple rows of teeth, completely blind in their hunger for past and Now…

Just like van Bruggen used King as his inspiration, I’m using both, and many more. But I am a bit apprehensive of writing all out horror like King, because lately I am beginning to feel like I had it all wrong.… Read the rest

Sometimes I feel like all is well, and there is this Oneness that takes hold of me. Other times, like this morning, I feel like I’m being pushed and shoved into stuff I may not like. Today is one such day, or at least this moment is: I would have been perfectly content just sleeping another hour or so, but some influence I don’t particularly like right now had me misreading the alarm clock, and getting up over an hour early instead of just ten minutes……

Now things like that could possibly ruin your entire day, right? if you let them, that is…

But hey, since I’m awake now anyway, why not get an early start on Moorelife, and save that hour for the end of the day, when ‘Me-time’ begins again after work? It is said that shaping your day is the right thing to do in the morning, but usually, I don’t ever get to shape Me-time, simply because I’m no longer into wanting it to become a certain way. I mean, work is easy: I want it to progress properly, so it does not carry over into the time I consider my own.… Read the rest

Saturday came up soon, way too soon actually. I fought it for about seventeen minutes, but as the dawn kicked in there really was no point to remain hidden by the covers. I kicked them off, hoping to wake up leisurely since it was weekend, but the next turn was fatal: at 7:17AM, as witnessed by the alarm clock, I got up and went into the daily routine of washing and dressing. No shave, because I usually skip that on the weekends, since there are no complaints from my daughters anyway. Being the grownups that they are, we quit kissing ages ago. That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t want to hug them every now and then, but young ladies of their age find such things distasteful, especially when their dad is concerned….

Besides, they’re not here this weekend, so I went down for my morning coffee, after having given the washer something to do. As it spun contentedly, I sat down and continued where I’d left off a few nights ago: adding to the six pages that at some point will be called my third novel.… Read the rest

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The state of full consciousness — into which you are soon to awaken — is the state of blissful exhilaration for which you have been longing and searching, and of which you have only the faintest trace of a memory . . . just enough to be sure, at the very deepest center of your being, that it truly exists, that it is where you belong, and that it is where you are going.