The woman with two husbands and the man with two

Elevate form over function to get at less easily articulable truths.

The woman with two husbands and the man with two

Postby Meno_ » Sun Feb 19, 2017 10:34 pm

Backwards only can do. For privacy. Concise, out of. System without wave making.
Lovely she was. Many years ago, different culture.
He:broken. Long time, ago.
What he wanted was family , love, given up on most everything else.


Start from back to front. Make sense even if leaving most or some out. Memory problem.

Promised to love and obey, till death to us part.


start with now.

The other husband moved in.

Yesterday, his young daughter showed up, he just getting out of hernia surgery, had a row with surgeon, cause obsession of not waking up. They settled with just enough propofol, and a lot of Fentamil.

Lots of pain laying on couch.

Youngest daughter comes over.

With grandson 2 years, Aiden. Quite as can be.
He plays , wants nutcracker belonged to his youngest son now past. He wants it.

2nd husband comes out starts playing, up to the kid, while he is telling her ,can't come over this week cause doc told him can't lift kid on account of the hernia operation, for at least a month.

2nd husband is cutsie pying with kid, and cooing saying I love you little kid, in spite of, having own two or three wives back in the old country. One set of twins didn't make it, but he says he loved them anyway, cause they were his. His number one wife, was also left behind, one of whose five sons are here, looking for a job.

He is a good kid of nearly fifty years old, the youngest. Now the number two husband's brother who went to Alaska and has not been seen since, got a job fishing up there, but that was 40 years ago, when his wife was married to him.

So he comes out playing with the baby, and the baby was big, that's why he can't pick him up, that is the first husband, and he lays in bed groaning worrying about his bowl movement since narcotic caused a blockage, and he is worried about a re-rupture.

Bottom line he is thinking about also, going back to the old country, but last visit just reminded him of the green grass being greener there, an old fallacy.


So 2nd husband is shooting the breeze about how he was a black belt back 50 years ago, blah blah blah, and he sings, and first husband says sing something, and he says I have it recorded, and plays it a kind of nostalgic trip into the various love channels he seemed to sustain all these years.

the kid wants to get away from his grip. And the first husband, will call him chump, says nothing but thinks only of the balance, he is way way heavier, therefore he has a tremendous karmic advantage against the first husband whom we shall call bump.

Literally bumped around, and bumped around, and now living with them, with his youngest son.

Then comes a kind of morphic slashing with the knives of cruelty; how could you warm up to this ibniscebt child, while admitting that you never saw the twins, who died, and you say you loved them.

He emvraces chump's daughter, and wraps his black belted arms around her.

CLINCHER there is as always, how can he do it? To taunt, chump says, hey bump, while I am layer up, maybe you can go over and take care of the kid?
Who has since managed to escape the arms that held him.

Meanwhile Bump's son comes out and offers to cook something, and Chump accepts, even though familiar of poisoning in bump's cultural heritage.

They end up pals, chump realistic about had weight favoring bump by sheer numbers, but believing of the weight of the soul, proven by song by the last concert given by the WHO inSan Francisco, back in 1969 think it was in the Fremont, where the event's signature was 'The Weight',how prophetic Chump thought.

So here they are measuring weights,and the only central heavy weight is SHE with whom both are in love. Well not exactly. Bump has a lot to ride on this one being homeless and all, with her very good central position as the vertex of all her perceived responsibility, which she has set up as the leader of the cult.

For thi and her feminine vulnerability,
, her other side consisting of a weak soul needing a buttress of very weighty and insolvent massive responsibility, which is shared, he loves her like crazy, and many times accusingly she points a wagging forefinger at him:brother are you crazy to love me.

And she is as crazy as he is, for having as many husbands, but he is no angel, for his make lover, is his only counterweight against this simingly accurately calibrated delicate balance.

SO HE DECIDES NOW to let things take their course, because, things are veering out of control.
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Re: The woman with two husbands and the man with two

Postby Meno_ » Sun Feb 19, 2017 10:53 pm

How can a delicate flower harbor such a enormous force within her breast, he muses, when her hear has so long carried the hypocrisy planted in her long long time ago through a generational gravity which offers no respite or escape from the chains of karmic cause and effect?

For Chump really loves her in spite of the second husband's intolerable intolerance, he even finds him funnily pitiful, for trying to wedge into situations, where he could easily return to a veritable harem?

Chump thinks escapism much of the time, thinks of San Francisco, and a aHaight no longer there, except maybe only as a signpost, without the flowers, and the love, remain only some old headship with blaring and glaring reminders!

Or, overseas somewhere, where a small monthly check goes a lot farther, at least for now, where the only obstacle could be the inexcused akienation perceived by the natives as an unjust life of taking advantage of the higher currency exchange, lop siding values into spirals of unreality. How to anesthetise the difference of values into mutual acceptability without ruining a liver so busy with cleansing the system of alcohol? That would only mean an absurd reduction of escaping an escape a running away with no end.

No, Chump could do that here as well, to calm and smash the love for his woman of almost thirty years.
Can't be done, he concludes, has to live with the thought, and the actual cohabitating presence of the second husband.
No ifs about it, when he has even a drop of liquor, she becomes he victim , he the subtly controlling
monster.

So he muses upon these and other things, the wind alarming all outside , a weird storm, arising from a beautiful and placid day before, Chump needs her, and thinks the black belted Dump is easy pray for his clutches, by turning his defiance into the other cheek. a very shrewd and calculated move, if ever there was one.
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Re: The woman with two husbands and the man with two

Postby Meno_ » Sun Feb 19, 2017 11:16 pm

Calls her, tells her this and that, but she is cold, does not pick up. Chump fights it, fights the appalling obsessive return to some prior state, forgiving, but maybe they reached an impasse here, she knows now feelings will see saw with thoughts, accusations, binges,..l.....

Is she in it for another bout?

She called Bump several times, he was not there, his phone kept ringing, he was tempted to pick it up.

And both of his daughters telling him mom really loves You. And now, opened the piggy bank which we saved for next Xmas, quarters and dimes at a time, Chump figures, no more booze left, she took his car, but must go down to the liquor store, there is nothing left up here, and the storm is raging outside, plus I can heardly walk the day after surgery. But he needs something. An anesthetic to take the place of the Fentanol, Ibufrovin is a sad substitute.
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Re: The woman with two husbands and the man with twobt

Postby Meno_ » Mon Feb 20, 2017 12:09 am

A lot has happened since Chump went off this forum. But to make things short, she gave him a call after apologizing to seventh heaven, to having hurt her, she returned her call, and sounded as if he , Chump, was forgiven. Releived, he reclined the debt owed to the colonized, and that it had to do something with this,and his pledge, to honor and defend this marriage, said o the death. , Chump as relieved when she called, and sounded like nothing really happened, of importance, oh I love her for that said Chump.

Hen people talk about the Mexicans coming into the USA illegally, I think of them surrendering at the conclusion of the Spanish American War, Mexico loosing one half of her territory to the US, and now, maybe the Mexicans thinking, that in times of hardship, it may be convenient for the US to remind themselves of the shifting boundaries in the sand, whereas , bounderiesvmay not be, as they say, written in granite.
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Re: The woman with two husbands and the man with two

Postby Meno_ » Mon Feb 20, 2017 12:19 am

So, identity, strung out between the shifting boundaries of diplomatic futility, need a rest in times of trouble, for those who have atrung them up in the first place, and we need to be not hypocritical about the otgwr side of capital investiture, VI's: that of colonialism, no. One conjoins the other, and the veracity of one, need not declaw the other, out of a hidden subterfuge,

And so Chump's thoughts veered, Zander Bump came home, they enbraced,and thought of betterimes. Meanwhile SHE called, not giving the slight of hint of his affrontery, and tgingsvseemingoy, back on track. He was releived, however worried that she will notice the alcohol on his breath, the source of which, was not caused by any trip down to the liquor store, but a discovery of a bottle left as a Christmas gift , forgotten,still in wrappers m on He kitchen table.
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Re: The woman with two husbands and the man with two

Postby Meno_ » Mon Feb 20, 2017 12:28 am

By this time, it may become obvious to the dear reader, that any gramattical mistakes, may need a morning after of sobriety to repair, and so, I beg your forgiveness, for the time span, within which, this may become possible.


In case you are wondering, why such rapid recovery for this afterword became possible, without the aforementioned mistakes, it is because, everything possible was done to block,the effects of , and that corresponds to my earnest effort to stay within the confines which describe literacy. Thanks.
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Re: The woman with two husbands and the man with two

Postby Meno_ » Fri Feb 24, 2017 1:51 am

Then Chump decided to lay low, and put up with all the husbands, because he knew is his sinews that that jealousy hurts the jealous most, not the one being jealous of.

And what of the Old Country? Almost bought a condo there, and he knew, the mathematician talked it out of him, because his whole family on his father's side did not like him, nor his mother, and he told them actually why Old Dad married mom. It was a love of a mind, yes, but it had political overtones, rationalizations. To start with his mother was a catch. A catch , that a very quizzical landed gentry could land, he being over thirty, his last lover a German soldier, before fascism became unfashionable, after say , 1943, when the tide turned.

Convenient also, from the most important turn of events, that of the changes of regime.

So little boy , do not grieve, for your mom and dad, the Europe of long gone now divided between the guilt and the compensation of fruitful immigration, has been body politic since 1945, an atonement of sorts, no wonder Europe abhors an opened scab caused by the injuries of ages old desire to return to grand old Vienna with its wine, women and song.
The slow time waltz, was surely relegated to the dustbins of those, who seem to discount a resurrection of magic and wonder in the eternal visage of the deep blue forested night?

Who dare?

Except those whose mind turns on the anthitetical ,the age old prolegmia of opposites? Of a hope inwarranted of a night of eternal spring.

Rites of which resonate like Nijinsky's rose,but only more and no dread, cause his problem solved into echoes of phantastic idioms swirling around orbs of
specific aura?

Have you lived the life of the cave, being in it, for so many years, your only illumination the neon throbbing of a Chinese laundry and spiking on acid, lying on a very intricately woven oriental rug, and with the music of tapestry, and wishing to meet Neil Cassidy, but only Serling with Maggie Cassidy?

Very intricately woven, when out of a bar Stampede late night, buzzing your Honda to a friend, and he wanted to play ghost in the dark park, only the song brown eyed lady can spoke of, and change reels, and in the mode of future perfect asked the same from his youngest son Chris, if he wanted to go to the bluest black of blue parks, and groove, and he said no, let's go to the Madrid restaurant diwn the street, and he said no, what's there?


A full house darkly lit, no Wagnerian magic there, only the hushed murmurs of damask, clanging silver, and phony politeness.

What else is new my dear, here, in the world of the bizarre, the ridiculous, and the absurd?
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Re: The woman with two husbands and the man with two

Postby Ultimate Philosophy 1001 » Fri Feb 24, 2017 3:54 pm

Im more interesting in seeing the hermaphrodite with 2 penises bang her hot lesbian girlfriend.
building a better future
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Re: The woman with two husbands and the man with two

Postby Meno_ » Wed May 24, 2017 11:05 am

Cebu, may 23, 2017

Hotel room blues. Alone second beer if drink it. Make it last. Her other husband back at home, and that on top of hill with swell view, under foreclosure. The man hired lawyer, yes, she says, it's possible to save it but.

No one will quite understand the preturbance of the debts of what he feels for her. She is a big time player in a small pool here in Cebu.

They are leaving in a week. Her business collapsed here because her niece the director had no compassion or honesty about her. She went from living in the Dondo part of Manyila to a good part of Cebu.

He thinks he can't write honest about her or everything going down cause it might get back to her and hurt her. No such thing. Thinks of the song......don't go to town disabled, tied to a wheel chair.

He has sat and wondered, about her, and began search Craigslist out of fun stopped himself. Stuff about Trump bothers him. When he first went to states through Ellis Island at age 9, Ike was a broad grinning general, honesty impersonated, America milk and honey, projections and intuitions of great years ahead. Now, Turner classics become a mania, whereas Americana on. Global stage, evidences the naive optimism that would turn his vanishing adulthood into a liftime of adolescence, defy the times, as well as put forever brackets on natural highs , and sorrily lows for that matter. Someday, winning a Nobel prize would be great, as him and a guy named Lee, formed a projected future friendship, bonding from a sorry skinny kid to alley his desperate failure with the upper crusted kid he learned to hide from, a lesson well learned from his ma and pa, both hiding from reality, he because of fear of frequently changing ideologies: always wanted to stay on the right side, and she because ineptetude drove her to exclaim to her mom , the confessions pietetude, when on her bedtime knees, she beseeched the good lord to spare her of the eternal indebtedness caused by extreme wealth.

BUT THAT WAS THEN. and now that image greeting, he most of all wants to remember when, and ho back in time to one particular tree in Los Angeles, that was marked a decade later by a newly babtized flower shop called my secret garden.

They are do to leave in one week, and she is not responding to his love vibes as she used to. Her forlorness focused now on a variety of shambles, of a multitude of failed business ventures, and losses of hard earned and inherited fortunes only loosing their faint luster with the passing of each year, and the start up of a new business.

Sitting in this hotel room, aptly named Mandarin Oriental, while others would gladly walk along the debris of Cebu's better neighborhoods, he stills his aching heart, hoping when she reappears, he can still feel and sustain the feekings. that now envelope his heart, appearently , only.

The tree in the park will still be there, the heat so sticking here, the swarming humanity, devalued to the point of an incredibly naive smile to attract, could, if he wanted to attract yet, but he loves her, her. Second husband back in ol' La, and as he is writing this, he could think of one redeeming rationale to put ink to paper, stuck to him, as the sole surviving tool with which to diminish the angst of writing for its own sake, whether to seem like garbage, or memoir ridden non entity, or a free flow image begotten recorded of floating scales suspended in air: that Michael Wilding Jr. wrote one tiny little saga of his own try at the 60's inspired commune life's transformative forceful effect to out bemoaning, and introverted home bodies, to face life as it is, get involved, even if, drug induced states leading to awfully recanted shades of continuum from shyness to paranoia tried to shut the doors of perception so available to those whom only an internal dialogue, preferably on paper can come even close to liberate.

Now the second husband entrenched and enscombed in tha foreclosure property proudly overlooking a cascading , firefly of thousands of points of light in the San Fernando valley, cooks his modest meals, always displaying the marriage cirtificate which allowed him entrance into the land of the brace, cooking on a small camp flame. It is with his son now that she is out with, although there is no physical thing going on between him and his wife, before he left, he touché
He touched her knees. So what? He thought, even if they suddenly disrobed and had sex, he would love her, after so many a summer, the swan, the swan of Leonardo, so exotically and lasviciouly displaying elections smothered by the tons and tons of mystical union and magical understanding, oh no, scarlet, don't take it to town.


You are just chicken shit, that's all, no life low life. Only dream scrapes, wannabe tries and plenty of images dredged up from cavalier times of below the threshold.

First time as when how scare as the milk flow like white bold, and just by thinking of something not on recall, but the recoil was assuring, things back to normal.

Then after standing on a street trying to engage a black woman to pay a weeks pay for a half and half, and did it went home proud containment of thought, no longer a virgin.

There is absolutely nothing going on , husband to a woman married to another man with five sons, each of them a confidant, speakin'her language, and all dimunitively expressful of his communication all infurmity which matters very little here.

When his daughter lived here years ago, came here to save her from a haunted house, which became national news, she changing her name to Star, whereby sorting unspoken narratives yet to come, where it will be examined why such name never was justified, he still obliged a kind of spiritual linkage to Scarlet. But now, she is the one, who it is beginning to look like doesent give too much of a damn, but his love, the love that resulted in four children and six grand children began to encapsulate the sum total of his compensating magnet for lack of a better word, for the ever present feeling to fend a force of overcoming the futile and ever unceasing fear of abandonment.

They are leaving in one week, and the first week filled with activity to salvage this newest of failed businesses, came to a halt, when he expressed little interest to pursue her dream.

Back there, the renewed interest in grass, of another reality obsessed him, while here, as he told Star's husband, very strict law as had prohibited such endeavors , at the cost of severe punishment, even the
threat of extra judicial execution.

So cool, the fear of cool, where everything is near hundred degrees of solitude. Everything there becomes possible, and now after restitution of that dream suddenly collapsing into a heap, not unlike that with which Hart Crane wrestled with , at one end White House shimmering fantastically in the red desert of Cuban abandonment, Hemingway inspired hide away, whereas the Brooklyn Bridge grey and tomb-esque, leading to but never getting to a blazing other end so hopeful but so unforgivingky disappointing in the end.

They came back, chattering away, she saying she could not bring the promised chicken, but later will have fish. The guy , the son, said they ate. The thought did not occur to him to ponder on why he was not invited.

Let it be he recalled the early John Lennon inspired message in that now a classic oldie, and he thought, that perhaps when ready, the fruit of what he planted could attain a harvest, even if of strangely twisted metaphoric content. Still, all in all, it is worth it.

I want to give him a name, but best, he is really a man with no bane,

With no name, better leave him like that.
A horse with no name comes to mind, using it here is merely a superlative.

He stares out of the 23rd floor, the dusk has earpten away at the edges of a grey street, points of light like fire flies begin to swarm over an uncertain lower realm.

If only he could take Scarlet tonight, but even then, when it still had a buoyancy and urgency to rise to the challenge, her response was guarded, mysterious and enchantingly geared toward a self perception clad in the vestments of hidden purity. For she was only 16, and for a brief moment in her life scape, thought of betaking into the service of the Lord in the nunnery.
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Re: The woman with two husbands and the man with two

Postby Meno_ » Wed May 24, 2017 11:08 am

Need to purge this man of all his restraint, the author thinks, for it is as a purgative, that he needs to view expressing his blocked world view, a catharsis to transcend his late son's motto to live by: Carpus Diem!
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Re: The woman with two husbands and the man with two

Postby Meno_ » Thu May 25, 2017 4:40 am

Day two wholed in.
Leave in weeks time. Thoughts bout asia,many.
The haunted house .
All about star. My daughter. He was dictating fast, could hardly keep up. As if he was rushing against a sudden onslaught of time.

That was a few years ago, before a method was established, and the mane of the horse replete with bane, ......and Bendon was still here, with him, and he spent six months bonding with him, wanting to adopt him out of pity. For back then everyone was on sha-boo.

So amid all the confusion and all signs indicating a renewed downward spiral, and constipated silly on words still, starting with 1 beer, still crazy after ALL
these years, hoping against hope THE depression would not come back after only 2 beers,
Gotta hand it to you boy, with so many husbands, some real some not, but one guy back in the navy told me in the shower I have no thing to worry about, that said.

But worry comes anyway.
One of her patients was a guy in the movies, the guy who who did hang from self prescribed sexual strangulation in bancock, kill bill, he was in rehab at the time for withdrawal.

Innuendoes aside, back to the haunting. Besides one of the very best vehicles for a great progenitor of ghosts story, 'The Haunting', more desperately scary, where sensitivity meets the supernatural entity, reminded him of the more than normal coincidences happening, [ALL THE TIME], without realizing how desperate mystics of all times, (mostly orientals, but some many German ones), who have come to bad ends on account.

And she broke in with loud gasps about the haunting, this and that, that it is Real dad, it is really happening you know.

So now, what is happening, after he says had to pawn my truck that was subsequently lost on account of Scarlet holding me to a tight leash gambling and all.

Now Scarlet, You know is special , very special, and she can make things happen, in any case, the truck pawned bought ticket, and came to rescue star who was on the edge, having draped her room's only window looking out on the river, with an American flag.

This is her version:

I was doing a reality show, and my agent was a lesbian . She shortchanged my wages , and then they canceled me because of the thing with PETA. I did a outrageous photoshoot in front of the cathedral wearing only lettuce, to protest the meat industry and next day was front page in most Asian news markets.

She claims she didn't do it for publicity for by that time she was centerfold, and doing the reality show, and so on ......?

But trouble started. She went two years to Strassberg in Hollywood, the same as a lot of stars did to jump start, and took voice with Michael jacksons voice coach. Later after her career dove, she did a disc jockey stint, but by that time, her fears of appearing in public and her obsessions with whitening her skin began their descent.

The Jeep pawned he got there in time, and strangely the huge glossy who haunted them did not touch me.
I was immune to the clutches of evil, because I could contract myself, into the mystical way, the way of the redeemed.

How redemption came about is another story extended through reaching a new horizon, he said, as he shifted his body in the overstuffed chair.

But it was a seance of sorts, the description is to follow, as if by a pre planned coincidence, but really, a very honest appraisal of what happens to spirits when they are automatically compressed, mixing the real thing with its effective counterpart.

What about you, he asks me, what's in it here for you? I am here to observe and make friends that's all, as long their ego trip does not consist of alienating subservience.

"Ok",

That's all he said and continued about relating to the haunting incidence.

"I was alone" , he whistfully related this, as it were an admission of guilt, and as a backwash, he presented the only thing he could think of when he asked allen ginsburg about drinking while dwrting and he goes yeah, but only when you're alone, and never outside. But that was 1982 in boulder, and this is here and now.

So it's ok 2nd beer not too bad, the gurl (in cassidy's phraseology) as long as not to exceed 3.

Ok.

You've got a friend, at least one like terry was. But more of terry later.

The method: means more then what it looks like , he, with a wink implies, and so matter of fact lay that you could almost hear a pin drop, he whispers, any part of this could be edited or dropped, dont worry.

But the haunting suddenly stopped after he arrived, he claimed, and it was not only when they were ready to move out of the building for the rent was way too high, that the premonition was made credible right before his eyes.

This is how it went down:


Sitting around the very fine coffee table made of exquisite teakwood, covered by a slab crystal , when all of a sudden.

The crystal broke, right cown themiddle, perhaps in retrospect reacting to unseen pent up energy,that could manifest. No reason for it to have splintered at that particular moment, ..

Noted but not particularly , as some kind of unforeseen event to herald another, no particular attention was paid to it. They moved, Star, and her entpurage, with little Benton in his arms, whom he had to give up to a Catholic place, as his adoption did not go through, and with heartfelt trepidation that he left him there, his heart bleeding, having to get out through the bAck door, so he will not notice him. The place was bad, but the catholic missionary priest assured him he will pay attention to him.

He left him there, guilty and the drops of rose petals masked for the blood of hearts enveloped him, but really dying inside.

So they moved to a more affordable place, and not even trying to hide his remorse now, but in an escape mode of trying to get back to the states and leave all this behind him now, he called the leasing agent asking him to return her deposit, do they can purchase a return.

She exclaimed that , haven't he heard the news that the new tenant moving in died the very first day he moved in, sitting by the broken coffee table, which, for, incidentally, when are you intend to pay for?
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Re: The woman with two husbands and the man with two

Postby Meno_ » Fri May 26, 2017 12:36 pm

Still in my room.

They went after , on business, to try to figure what to do about it. Too much money down the drain now, can't close it, gotta get a loan, and change the whole
thing. OK. Went down the street and had a haircut for 30 pesos, including facial massage, which is cheap even according to these standards. Then
bought a pair of used jeans, for three bucks, and
gave 25 pesos to the homeless man, who didn't ask for it.


Martial Law announced in Mindenau, hope it doesent spread here, its Ramadan, expect peace, since the Muslim leaders asked for no violence after all it is a
religious occasion, the most important.


Weather suddenly somber, skies are grey, and temp down from very hot to hot. Can't write gotto order a
beer,..Later.

Ok. Got the beer and its later. Thinking about the US position in the world, complex no here into this fine third world country, with huge contrasts, where getting a job is a big problem, especially in the provinces. Even with an education. You feel as if the color of your skin stamps you, as if your white man's privilege is an embarrassment.

He says he never felt privileged, but in fact he is by fiat. After all the old adage of capitalistic imperialism has stuck to his mind ever since the fifties , and it has reversed the adage of the white mans burden, now it is the former colonies and passed imperium of china which are carying the overloaded baggage which the west has turned into, binding china as the creditor to guarantee the human inalienable rights that the founding fathers could not anticipate.

Am I strange, weird ? he thought not to have a young woman at my side, today at the pool I saw a common sight here, a well above 70 years old man with a twenty-ish girl carrying his baby, she howling for fright of the water into which they were trying to dunk her into. She was a mistasa, a word reserved those with bi-racial features. Pretty as a little angel, yet overplaying her fear of water, making her aged father cringe with all kinds of racial overtones. Me thinks, if it wasn't for his guerenty from the life here, she would never have given him a look.

Are you afraid of death, he asks him, oh no, he too much protests, not at all, but if I gotto go, I must go out with a pint of whisky.

Yesterday's haunting theme made him watch , appropriately, sticking to the theme, a film about haunting , the old house, the old antique pictures where the old family had tremendous baggage, suicides, murder.....The essence of the picture consisted, of a very stern and old fashioned man , married to a much younger woman, who played on the side with the stable boy, got knocked up, and as a result, got rid of the unwanted pregnancy. The real father never knew, until which time where seeing his 'son',drowning in mud, taking his time to save him, too much time, the boy seven years old drawns.

The mother hangs herself, and she is the one who haunts all of the future owners of the house. Predictable, and boring.

Nothing at all like Star's haunting.

What a boring life I have in overfed US, where the population has no idea of the necessity for inner grace and simple elegance , taking US superiority for granted, where this is the heart of the matter, social reality world wide can not be dictated by a philosophical materialism on the wain, the huge ww2 profits won, no longer an absolute guarantee of the real state of being for the overfed populations. This is the charm of Trump, his ambiguity is trying to set the picture straight, of course, never a thought that the truly wealthy could not hold their edge, by controlling a dehumanized, de personified automata populations, who really HAVE TO PAY TAXES. The wealthy need not change, it is all the rest who have to to accommodate the changeless beautification world of those above and beyond.

If this was so easy, then the threat of the venom of inflationary spirals congruent with its reverse, periods of recession and depression, holding at bay any notion of an ideological sense, to buttress this new world order. The wealthy do not want to loose their ability to dream, at the cost of those, whose nightmares have become many and well founded.

Thus he says, my secret garden there, always a comfort, a nostalgic trip into this timeless space, this my only escape into the world of pleasant odors and inescapable reservoirs of the grace of nature.

This is the saving grace which stops the wallmarts of mass appeal, and tempts a return into the airy phantasm of personal idiosyncrasy of grace.

Wish you had not gone to California, and still could breath in the autumn burning of fallen leaves, with its stringent smell, signaling the coming of the crisp air, the chimney spewing the grey whiteness of a Connecticut or Massachusetts sky, where women still sit around in an old Rexall, and think about a stranger, in town.

Or, the beaches of Orleans, Mass, in the late spring, with the shells of crabs dried and arid in the waning twilight. The rolling hills of the California blue, as well perfumed blue green as the jasmin and the honeysuckle invade the eternity which is the westward promise, gained only in aged barrels of westward hoe promise, as the sun sets on Route 66.

The freshness and the gaiety of this newly won promise can never ever be replicated elsewhere, and that sense of the wonderful and extraordinary, of which dreams are made of can never ever be replicated, for listen, there never be another good rushed place and time , where that aura of hope will ever again come back in alternating and dizzying cycles of mania and depression. The gay nineties, the crazy 20's, the wonder of the sixties,could not anywhere but a young nation with unbounded optimism fair.

And he went on an on, how recoverable it all is, and the French, were wrong to be so down on a past recovered, they were old men, with old children , in old towns, which they built to last forever.

But nothing does, and after a time, the buildings stop to remind of the before the cut away point. History severes memories as well as the guillotines did heads.
Meno_
Philosopher
 
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