Blogger is my external hard drive.  I hope that it always will exist.  Even after the satellites fall from the sky,
and our tiny sun named Sol becomes a giant red dwarf and consumes our planet,
along with Mercury and Venus. Nothing will be left of us.  No tombstones, no books, no love letters, no
carbon.  
Yet, we have sent off Voyager One and Two to sail along into
the ocean of stars, as minuscule space travelers beyond our heliosphere, as a
record that we have existed.
Our transmissions, our radio and television programs, our
cell phone calls, and our texts and tweets,
Well,
They will be dissipated by the heliosphere outside of our
tiny solar system, lost alone, on the fringe of the arm of our own galaxy.
So live how you will.
Write how you will.
Enjoy this opportunity to be here.  The idea of a fresh fruit, of first love, of
pleasure from reading:
It means that there is indeed, something more.
Perhaps?
Now for songs for the next part.  Now to get writing this thing.  There are so many songs to hear out
there.  I’ll just try to keep up.  I’ll try to select one or two.  It’s hard work, but it’s a lot of fun.
TUNES
FOR LORELEI:
Underwater Love   by
Jerome Isma-Ae    
Heaven   by JES   (Myon Remix)   
For the rest of us
damned Punks:
Learn From The Fall   
by Noah    
Going Gets Tuff   by    The Growlers     
Wrong Way   by Sublime
Out of Control   by
Hoobastank      
Ink    by
Coldplay    
That’s When I Reach for My Revolver   by Mission of Burma    
Dead Man Coming    by
Evil Nine   
It Gets The Worst at Night  
by Lucero   
Hen House   by Ray
Wylie Hubbard   
Say Something   by
James 
Lonesome Street by Blur    
Music is my food.  I
will partake of every dish at the buffet.
VERSION ONE
Have to get back from here:
We damned punks held together as a Tribe, come what
may.  That was our only saving grace.
So many opportunities to explore now.  The world is a vast sea, and we have small
boats.  Our pens are our oars.  The sea is made of black ink.  The sand on the beach is where we write our
experiences, to be washed away by the tide.
But do it.
Write, even as the stars fall from the sky.    
To Be Continued…
---willies in, again
.
 
 
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