And light it up forever, and never go to sleep, my best unbeaten brother, this isn't all I see

Today went rat-a-tat-tat. Movement, movement, movement! At work, my pace had an urgency about it and it did not wane. I had the energy. T'was a solid, stimulating day's work. There were brief run-ins with negative, worrisome thoughts, but they poofed away like chalk dust in the sunlight.

After work, I went to my parent's house. Mom made meatloaf, a meal I detested growing up, but enjoy these days. Her recipe is the same - maybe refined slightly - but my palate would argue otherwise. Post dinner, mom and I discussed politics, although the word discuss is hardly ever rightly paired with the word politics, and came out the other end with no hard feelings. Dad kept quiet through almost all of it but then challenged us with questions that had no clear answers, or better put, he asked questions that put into play the idea that none of us really knows precisely what's going on in the world around us as much as we think we know. Of course we don't, but I reckon the world seems a more stable and livable place when we feel we've got a handle on it. There is a clear distinction between knowing the truth and knowing a truth. That is why I don't feel all rosy in the midst of religious dogma. Expressing the inexpressible is not man's work.

Fred told me earlier that he and Matt hung out on the porch until 3:30 this morning drinking home brewed  beer and talking (Probably about me! Villains!). Fred, despite not having the luxury of being able to sleep in this morning, stuck it out to it's natural conclusion. Me, I would have gone to bed a couple of hours earlier, no matter how spirited the conversation. Well, maybe if it was a really good one. For example, one with an opening salvo like this: "Kevin, would you mind giving me a thorough and descriptive overview of the creature we've come to know as Bigfoot, starting with the Patterson-Gimlin film and branching out from there? Is that something you could do for me? Please?".

And now, let's hear from Thomas Wolfe. I suggest you read this many times but most definitely before bed. This passage, from Look Homeward, Angel, speaks to me deeply and I'm not sure I'd be able to articulate why if pressed. And that's the way it should be, my brothers and sisters.

 . . . a stone, a leaf, an unfound door; of a stone, a leaf, a door.
And of all the forgotten faces.

Naked and alone we came into exile. In her dark womb we did not
know our mother's face; from the prison of her flesh have we come
into the unspeakable and incommunicable prison of this earth.

Which of us has known his brother? Which of us has looked into
his father's heart? Which of us has not remained forever prison-pent? Which of us is not forever a stranger and alone?

O waste of loss, in the hot mazes, lost, among bright stars on this
most weary unbright cinder, lost! Remembering speechlessly we
seek the great forgotten language, the lost lane-end into heaven,
a stone, a leaf, an unfound door. [Where? When?]

O lost, and by the wind grieved, ghost, come back again.