My Sunny Mood Downstairs

The steps to cellar
sometimes do cause a surprise.
I make it happen.

Sun – day & flower

Sunflower – there's been
such a lot bullshit written.
Just nothing to add.

Oui oui

Ce monde est un grand Bedlam, où des fous enchaînent d'autres fous. / This world is one great bedlam where maniacs  enchain other maniacs. / Diese Welt ist ein einziges großes Tollhaus, wo Irre andere Irre in Ketten legen. /
[Voltaire]

Friday is Skyday

Fireface

I felt reminded of Robert Frost:'s "Fire and Ice" (1920)

Some say the world will end in fire,

Some say in ice.

From what I’ve tasted of desire

I hold with those who favour fire.

But if it had to perish twice,

I think I know enough of hate

To know that for destruction ice

Is also great

And would suffice.

The path to hell . . .

. . . is plastered with good intentions.

Or as a pious father, a real celebrity of celibacy once stated : "[...] is plastered with heretical questions."

"What an overrated idiot!"

. . . murmured Tetrapilotomos on reading the following

For life and death are one,
even as the river and the sea are one.

"Life is life, and death is death."
And on he went with proof-reading his 1669 pages short opus magnum "Pre-Assyrian Philately in a Nutshell".

On the Road (18)

Go.
Fear not.
Just do it.

 

On the Road (17)

Passing maizefield.

Laughing Lhursday

Molly Bloom's 110th 33rd

I'd not easily offer links thrice. However, exceptions exist to be made. And today there is a good reason to make one.

It's Mrs. Bloom's 143th birthday, thus she's now 105 years older than her husband uses to be since June 16th, 1904.

'Uses to be'? Well, in a most vivid dialogue I had the pleasure to witness some time ago, Mr. Bloom vehemently insisted on still being 38. Being asked to give evidence he said: 'cause June 16th 1904 I became immortal.

Thus, de facto the eternal Mrs. Bloom today is celebrating her 110th 33rd.

Happy birthday then, Lady Molly, and may I say: You're looking younger than ever. Younger than ever. :)


Here's to enjoyce, as thus spake Molly:

 

La vie en rose

La vie en rose? Shhh . . .
Peace Nobel Prize Winner wants
war war more . . . ter .... ror.

Friday is Skyday

Less than three hours sleep
caring 24/7,
no chance to escape.

So I drove quickly
– steeling time for morning walk –
to enjoy silence;

taking some photos,
– first river mist behind me –
then back I hastened.

Laughing Lhursday*

* [For first time visitors]:

Typo in the title?
Nah. It's just that I would not let a tiny T spoil an avantgardistic alliteration.