It doesn't feel like the weekend is imminent when by a stroke of misguided and convenient comp time altruism, I'm back here tomorrow. Words mean little when the actions are so oblivious and petty, when one wonders why no one confides in you because of your habit of betraying confidence and backstabbing. Any morale we have comes from our fellow peons not the middle management.
The Powers That Be are who they are, and while I try to remember that they too are human and in need of the love of God as much as anyone, it's really hard to have empathy for souls so profoundly calculating and cold.
In this house of suffering, I'm just as much in need of re-ignition as anyone.
one of the great albums of all time, hope things take a better turn soon.
ReplyDeleteA whole new freshman class
of leaves has arrived
on the dark twisted branches
we call our woods, turning
green now—color of
anticipation. In my 76th year,
I know what time and weather
will do to every leaf.
But the camellia swells
to ivory at the window,
and the bleeding heart bleeds
only beauty.
"April" by Linda Pastan
Folks like these are precisely why, beard or no, I'd make a really bad Jesus.
ReplyDeleteIt's all in the shoes, R.G.
ReplyDelete~
Sneakers, the footwear of the people.
ReplyDeleteYou can make a difference just by your presence! (this calls for another photoshop, the obelisk replaced by the Towering Slab)
dmf,
ReplyDeleteSome say April is the cruellest month, but it's still beautiful.
So would I, Randal, which is why I'm still relieved that God's God and I'm not.
if, knew I should have recycled those old tires!