Monday Morning Wake-Up Call

It’s true I do have time and freedom and I love it, sometimes. But the notion that I should be “making the most of it”, travelling the world or out every night, there’s a kind of tyranny in that too, that life has to be full, like your life’s a hole that you have to keep filling, a leaky bucket, and not just fulfilled but seen to be fulfilled. “You don’t have kids, why can’t you speak Portuguese?” Do I have to have hobbies and projects and lovers? Do I have to excel? Can’t I just be happy, or unhappy, just mess about and read and waste time and be unfulfilled by myself?

David Nicholls, You Are Here: Novel (Harper, May 28, 2024)


Book Review: The Guardian & The New York Times

Driving I-95 S. Float On.

car-driving-highway

I read One Day three years ago.
But The Line, this line, never left me.
The words would land softly, gently.
And my veins would pulse with Gratitude.

And then some days you wake up and everything’s perfect.

I turn the dial to 70’s on 7.
The Floaters with “Float on.

The left foot begins to tap.
My body begins to sway, a rocking chair.

Take my hand, come with me, baby, to Love Land
Let me show you how sweet it could be
Sharing love with me, I want you to tell me
Float, float on (Come on, come on,
(Come on, baby, yeah, yeah)
Float on, float on (Ooh, ooh, baby)
Float, float, float on
Float on (Float with me), float on Continue reading “Driving I-95 S. Float On.”