FADED MIDNIGHT

It’s just past 4am Pacific North West time. There is a torrent of rain beating against my window and it’s cold.

Normally, I would still be in bed under the comforter snug as a bug in a rug………. obsessing my way through some waking dream. But I get these thoughts swirling around in my head sometimes that don’t seem to want to let go until I tap them into existence. So here I am, tapping before they fade.

I was meandering through this ‘Blog-City’ last night and realized that most were written in another Mother language. And while I enjoyed looking at their photographs, I would like to have read some of their thoughts as well. But then, I suppose, they would say the same were they to stumble along into my madness, and find me.

I did, however, discover a few that I actually could read, and began snooping around in their Archives to get more of them. Well, not more of them so much as the philosophy of the paradigm of this life as they see it.

The lack of decorum splayed out for all to see amazes me. Is there not even a modicum of anonymity left to be had? Anywhere?

Some would say, ‘Oh Nonna, don’t be so primitive. After all, this is the twenty-first century.’ Really? Putting it all out there is a good thing? Who really wants to know much less care if Johnny, that no-good-never-did-anything-right-in-his-life is still wandering the streets aimlessly, or if sixteen-year-old-going-on-thirty Suzie just can’t possibly live another moment if he doesn’t notice her, like now.

There is something to be said for the mystery of a faded midnight and the music of the Blues that owns a dimly lit street.

Some words are best left within the circle of ‘family’, while other words would not, could not boast their grand gesture if kept in a box.

I’m just sayin’…..