The movie I mentioned earlier today was viewed by me from the comfortable cushion of seat 222 of our local cinema. And even though I was able to pick those seats myself, I promise I didn’t notice the sync until I’d decided we’d pick the last row but one, right to the right of the center aisle.
In a similar fashion I never meant to do that much Moorelifing in the morning, or else I wouldn’t have arrived here until later tonight:
Now seventeen has always been a magical number to me. And a double 17 is like an extremely lucky hand in poker to me (only two pairs, but who’s counting?). I was crazy about that number when I played as a DJ in a local discotheque as a high school kid, and my fans loved it too: the song called "a Forest" from the Cure’s album entitled "Seventeen Seconds"
Since on my last manic run I put a bit too much meaning into stuff like that, I’ve kinda gone cold turkey, and disconnected that one neural pathway that would stitch together all kinds of meanings with such threads. That doesn’t mean I don’t notice them any more, as this article proves, but somehow the edge has been taken off. Now it’s just: "Oh yeah, there’s one again….", and then I move on.
So don’t ask me for the meaning of these numbers, to me they are just colorful glass spheres in the Christmas Tree of Life.
Love your Magic Numbers,