A friend shared this video with me yesterday: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k7X7sZzSXYs

I think it is beautiful. I also think that the stories of Lydia Davis are beautiful. I don't know what these two things have to do with each other, but I think that it is a good time to appreciate beautiful things. Maybe it is the time of year, the air is crisp and clear. I have found a good routine and am happy in my work, both that which I get paid for and that which I don't.

My words will meander today. One coming after the next changing as they flow. A river of imagery. A tidal wave of smiles. Rolling on a melody. Play the video above while you read these words and you will hear. Words and song. Sing along. Take what you get for doing what you want. Don't forget to reflect.

Amazing things are real. Real things are often amazing. I had the most incredible dream that I was driving a drunk man to Houston. He had to get home somehow, we drove through a library and into a Parisian alley. Finding meaning in Texas. Moving meaning to Texas. My roommate moved to Texas. She grew up in a swimming pool.

I wonder now who will find meaning on this screen, in these words? Words that flow from my finger tips and are suddenly gone. A means of being or a method of losing oneself. Did you ever wonder if you really were? What would it mean if you weren't? Are you asking me? What did I tell you? Do you think I was listening?

I won a game of questions by questioning the game. Either way it is all the same. These words they run a marathon and are crushed by their own exuberance under the same size nike shoe that I wore when I was running...away or toward something...it doesn't even matter anymore. Again I am new here and I haven't become something that I didn't want to be.

Just being what I am. I wonder which way the tide will turn. Always following the moon. What will the next day bring. More beautiful things? Rainbows riding wings to escape from the shadow the rain cloud brings, as it cries tears of rain from broken eyes that shatter lightning as they cry. Learn to see with shattered eyes. Learn to dance in the rain. Funny how things always change and never stay the same.

I can hear you on the line, tapping your foot in time with the music on my mind. We all hear different music. Don't forget to give me a call sometime, just to remind me that you're alive. Somehow you always manage to hide under candy cane rooftops and bubble gum skies. I see it in your eyes, how afraid you were to thrive, all you could think about was how to survive. And that didn't even seem to jive with your rose colored glasses and whiskey and rye.

So goodbye. My words may reach too many eyes so I wonder can I write a love letter to be read by every person I have said hello to and goodbye. Everyone who I love to hate and hate to love or who I think is just great. Those I am glad exist in the world. The ones that I will depend on to give me peace of mind. Those that challenge all I thought I would find. And those that are constant, the lights, the divine.

Back to the flowing of words in the sea of thoughts and ideas that pause for a moment, wrench in the gears. How many times do you have to be clear? How many times can we reach a new year? And still be here.