FRIDAY1978

I know it will not end, but will it get easier? Will it get lighter, more feather, more wind, more air?

FALL

Time is your best friend, hope is torture. After a while, and as it goes, a while can be a second or a lifetime, you will get better in coping, but not in missing. let it hurt, then let it go... wish him well, bless the time you had with love, then let him go and be content yourself, knowing you wished him the best. know that missing him will come in waves, and sometimes, you will be drowning. but comfort yourself in this: you can swim, and land on a new shore.  Much Love to You  friday1978

Joni Mitchell

One pill makes you larger, and one pill makes you small And the ones that mother gives you, don't do anything at all Go ask Alice, when she's ten feet tall And if you go chasing rabbits, and you know you're going to fall Tell 'em a hookah-smoking caterpillar has given you the call And call Alice, when she was just small When the men on the chessboard get up and tell you where to go And you've just had some kind of mushroom, and your mind is moving low Go ask Alice, I think she'll know When logic and proportion have fallen sloppy dead And the white knight is talking backwards And the red queen's off with her head Remember what the dormouse said Feed your head, feed your head 

And when you think the world has gone completely bonkers, then just turn to the books. To the stories. To the wild quotes and old lores. While you read, escape. Swim with the sharks. Visit the mermaids. Ask Peter Pan where the lost boys are, although he can not tell you because he has forgotten them. Ask Alice where the rabbit went down the hole. Talk to the wild horses and run with the wolves, while the vampires are watching. Smoke a pipe with a wizard, and drink a bottle of milk with the cat that wears boots.  And then, when you yourself have forgotten all of the madness of the real world, you have dipped into the source. You have yourself surrounded with creativity and a special golden light that comes from a sun unknown to the eyes. You will hear and see with your heart, you will feel with your hair and listen with your skin until it prickles down your spine and shakes your very bones in awe, while all along your blood was boiling and cooking to make the love potion you need along the way when you start to follow the yellow brick road. Do you wear the red shoes? Or are you barefoot on the beach, while the pirate ships sail by and the songs of rum and glory make you wish you could onboard, off to new shores and wild adventures. Will it be perilous, will it be dangerous? Maybe you could even die... and to die, that could be another adventure. A new road. A new door. New friends to meet and souls to keep, Grow your hair really long, build a bridge of ropes around you for others to access your thoughts easier. Or cut it and build a house for the fairies, while they dance around you and ask you: What are you?  Escape is never real, you always take yourself with you.  So, travel on my Dear, and while you do, send me postcards and letters. I will know by your handwriting how you are, where you are, if you are. And you will know, that you are not alone. That someone is following you, lurking in the shadows, watching, smiling, waiting.  So, my Darling, you can always come home to me. I leave a light on. I leave the doors and windows open.  Love  Friday1978