Does tapping my fingers on my knees with the rhythm of a Glenn Gould, me a rhythm-challenged dancing lump (watch your toes, dear) count for anything?
Does falling in love with everyone I meet, loving the color of everyone’s hair, flashing a mile-wide smile at everyone whose eyes meet mine signify anything?
“Troubles melt like lemon drops…”
I’m lost in an ocean of love. Castaway, lost at sea, drowning in the sea of love. So subtle, where did it come from?
Sunk to the bottom of the Marianna Trench. Someone send Challenger. Or a higher-dimensional St. Bernard. Or a mermaid. Yes, that’s the ticket!
My GPS says “Everywhere, Nowhere.” “This way to Zeropoint.” “Around the corner from the Null Zone.”
Yesterday I was practising my automatic writing (on instructions from the Boss) and found myself pouring out my love for God and away I went, wafted aloft on the wings of bliss.
Fatal but not serious. Totally lost but doing fine. Swallowed up and wish you were here!