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What a lovely find cath xxx
basically the government has used up the countries gold reserves to pay off all its mounting debts….. we as a country are bankrupted, or as near as damn it. The money is getting borrowed from peter to pay paul now…… and peter is charging an arm and a leg and paul is a spendthrift.
Or something like that…. well thats one explanation anyhow.
“There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so”
Hamlet quote (Act II, Sc. II).
I played a link tobulldog put up and there was an old record player with vinyl spinning, and it reminded me of something I wrote a while ago now. Sorry if you’ve read this one before.
Volition
Always other people’s choices for as long as I can remember.
Their favourite melodies spinning beneath diamond
Not mine.
Never mine.
But music played in my mind, and I danced and sang and dreamed
In rhythm and time.
Occasional glimpses of that perfect sound that catches the throat
And burns the eyes.
Then an interval of great joy where the choices could be mine.
I revelled in that blissful short-lived freedom and remember it still.
Then the drought began again.
Slowly at first, but gathering pace.
A plethora of choices never mine.
And with a kind of death, the desire to listen left me.
…….Now?
A gift of soft and loud, and almost without realising it,
I discovered something, music had been there at my fingertips all the time.
And with the strength to choose within my grasp
I am learning to listen
All over again.©
Truth is Truth! To the end of reckoning.
Measure for Measure
a number 7 bus – the trains weren’t running that day.
Ah! in what a monstrous moment of pride and passion he had
prayed that the portrait should bear the burden of his days,
and he keep the unsullied splendour of eternal youth!
All his failure had been due to that. Better for him that each sin
of his life had brought its sure swift penalty along with it.
There was purification in punishment. Not “Forgive us our sins”
but “Smite us for our iniquities” should be the prayer of man to a
most just God.A new life! That was what he wanted. That was what he was waiting for.
Surely he had begun it already. He had spared one innocent thing,
at any rate. He would never lie again. He would be good.He took the lamp from the table and crept upstairs. As he unbarred the door,
a smile of joy flitted across his strangely young-looking face and lingered
for a moment about his lips. Yes, he would be good, and the hideous thing
that he had hidden away would no longer be a terror to him. He felt as if
the load had been lifted from him already.
In hypocrisy he had worn the mask of goodness. For curiosity’s
sake he had tried the denial of self. He recognized that
now.But these lies were they to dog him all his life? Was he always to be
burdened by his past? Was he really to confess? Never. There was
only one bit of evidence left against him. The picture itself–
that was evidence. He would destroy it. Why had he kept it so long?
Once it had given him pleasure to watch it changing and growing old.
Of late he had felt no such pleasure. It had kept him awake at night.
When he had been away, he had been filled with terror lest other eyes
should look upon it. It had brought melancholy across his passions.
Its mere memory had marred many moments of joy. It had been
like conscience to him. Yes, it had been his conscience. He would
destroy it.He looked round and saw the dagger that had stabbed Basil Hallward.
He had cleaned it many times, till there was no stain left upon it.
It was bright, and glistened. As it had killed the painter,
so it would kill the painter’s work, and all that that meant.
It would kill the past, and when that was dead, he would be free.
It would kill this monstrous soul-life, and without its hideous warnings,
he would be at peace. He seized the thing, and stabbed the picture
with it.Picture of Dorian Gray extract
Oscar Wildeknowledge
ALICE was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank and of having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it, “and what is the use of a book,” thought Alice, “without pictures or conversations?’
So she was considering, in her own mind (as well as she could, for the hot day made her feel very sleepy and stupid), whether the pleasure of making a daisy-chain would be worth the trouble of getting up and picking the daisies, when suddenly a White Rabbit with pink eyes ran close by her.
There was nothing so very remarkable in that; nor did Alice think it so very much out of the way to hear the Rabbit say to itself “Oh dear! Oh dear! I shall be too late!” (when she thought it over afterwards it occurred to her that she ought to have wondered at this, but at the time it all seemed quite natural); but, when the Rabbit actually took a watch out of its waistcoat-pocket, and looked at it, and then hurried on, Alice started to her feet, for it flashed across her mind that she had never before seen a rabbit with either a waistcoat-pocket, or a watch to take out of it, and burning with curiosity, she ran across the field after it, and was just in time to see it pop down a large rabbit-hole under the hedge.
From Alice in Wonderland, Lewis CarrollWell thats why I posted the link… I guess I really should give credit to all works.
So from now on, I will do so, though I still think the words should stand on their own merit.
