What is past is prologue. Progress is the law of life, woman is not woman as yet. As the light changed from red to green to yellow and back to red again,

I sat there thinking about life.

Was it nothing more than a bunch of honking and yelling? Sometimes it seemed that way. "Is anybody there?" said the traveler knocking on the moonlit door. I wish I would have a real tragic

lo v  e    a   f    f   a    i    r
and get so bummed out that I'd just quit my


and become a bum for a few years, because I was thinking of doing that anyway. I'll see a splendid city where great ideas are born in the minds of the populace, ideas that go forth to illuminate the darkened corners of the world....And I'll know people like you, people who have

thoughts in their heads and quick tongues with which to voice them, and we'll sit in cafes and we'll drink

t o g e t h e r
and we'll clash violently in words, and we'll


for the rest of our lives in divine excitement. I don't think God put me

to judge others. I think she put me on this planet to gather specimens and take them back to my home planet. To learn to love the world, and no longer compare it with some kind of desired
i magi nary
world, some imaginary vision of perfection, but to leave it as it is, to love it and be glad to belong to it. The world is not imperfect or slowly evolving along a path to perfection. No, it is perfect at every moment; every

s i

carries grace within it. Whether or not they ever find life there, I think Jupiter should be declared an enemy planet.

Revolution without the mess.

Curriculum Vitae.

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