Spiritual Talks: Declaration of Extension

Declaration of Extension

I'm bored of transience. Tired of the petal specialists who arrive at the park on a brilliant Spring day and declare, "We missed it. The absolute peak must have been three days ago." All boys, of course, must be 17. After that it's all downhill. Age 26 they are already deep in mourning. How dull. The petal specialists would do well to die when hedonists did in olden times, aged approximately 35.

As for me, sorry, but I am going to need an extension. You can have one too. Regardless of the state of your petals. Hell, you can be dropping leaves for all I care. The petal specialists can have their one day in April. (Good luck with teenage boys!) We'll roll out our blanket and stay all year round.

This is an all-weather picnic. Bring layers.

Spiritual Talks: God

God.

Is it time to be religious again? Despite having less faith than ever. Simply because I am direly short of social interaction. I ought to have at least an imaginary friend and, if a 36 year old man is going to have an imaginary friend, well, it had better be God.

Not for God (who has gobs of friends, many of whom are the scariest people you'll ever meet) but simply to keep the habit of humanness alive beside the specter of malevolent loneliness. Also because I cannot plant a tree. Not here in Tokyo -- a pot of geraniums is about all we have space for. Of course I try to be friends with my geraniums. But geraniums are not enough. Even the lettuces are not enough, not even when they go as far as flowering.

Underneath, of course, is the hope that reality will again spin, and what seemed foolish will turn out to be wise. Then I get to be right. And then reality spins again.