I’ve finally realized what a selfie is about.

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It’s 3:00 am. I took another selfie. It’s addicting. I’m determined to see how much my beard has grown since I took a selfie of it at 1:00 am yesterday.

All together my flip phone has 33 selfies of my beard! All except two, are just minute variations of right side, left side and dead center. With my eyes closed.

At 3:00 am ‘Mate, the flash is terribly blinding! Keep your eyes closed.

The other two selfies are of me smiling, like “Hello”. My eyes are open on those. I don’t go around saying Hello with my eyes closed!

I am methodical about how I take my selfie at any hour after midnight, because, I won’t mince words Mum, I look pretty scary. I have “bad hair days” every night between midnight and sunrise.

So why am I taking selfies of myself in the wee hour of morning?

Shouldn’t I take my selfie when I am very awake, very refreshed, very Kardashian?

That would make sense, but a little self-discovery of taking a selfie of my beard turned into an unexpected OMG moment! A moment of self-discovery!

You see apparently, and in early morning hours, bags appear around your eyes and your face sags! They don’t ring door bells, they don’t knock on the door, they just appear unannounced when the light goes on!

I am not sure if it’s a male age thing or something to do with hormones or no hormones as we get older but male chest muscles sags into male breasts.

Now, if you’re young, Nooooo Problem! But if you’re older, YIKES! How did that happen!

Worse my face is the surface of the moon and sliding down in ways I never saw it before!

Holy Cow!! How did that happen!!

I am aging! Uncontrollably badly! Unwillingly badly! Just badly!

Get my composure dear Man.

Houston (NASA): “Houston to Lunar”

Lunar (Face in the Moon): “Roger Houston”

Houston (NASA): “Any problems? We thought we heard a Yelp?”

Lunar (Face in the Moon): “Yelp? Problems? No no no no, no problems.”

Houston (NASA): “It sounded like a Yelp.”

Lunar (Face in the Moon): “No no no. Negative Houston. Lunar winds. Just go back to sleep.”

[In deep Space, No one can hear you scream. Even if it’s just the space between your two ears.]

The sombering moment was when I realized that I am succumbing to gravity, and my lofty images of still being young and virile has loudly, insidiously morphed into older and vile.

Damn! Nobody told me I’d age literally over night. Like between the nocturnal window of getting up to use the bathroom many times a night and when I take a selfie of my beard.

It’s so true, Photos never lie. And a photo is worth a million words in a fraction of a second “Click”.

In binary code, what iteration of OMG do I not understand!

It wasn’t just the beard I saw in the flash of light, but also lunar surface that I’ve never seen or never paid attention to.

Now I understand why women tend to themselves so well, the wiser of our species know and understand that sustainability takes years of smart care and gentle attention.

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Women tend to age gracefully if they can help it.

Men? Men, I think just wake up at 3:00 am and won’t believe what they see. They’ll close their eyes and pretend the bags, wrinkles and sags never happened.

And that leads me back to the selfie of a Man.




A photograph that one has taken of oneself, typically one taken with a smartphone or webcam and shared via social media.
“Occasional selfies are acceptable, but posting a new picture of yourself everyday isn’t necessary.”

I don’t share my selfies on social media because I don’t do social media much like I didn’t do selfies until 33 self-photos ago.

I had no real understanding to why people take “selfies”, particularly in such dramatic fashion like always from a precarious altitude with 1000% risk of falling as their faces turn from “HEY DUDE Look at me!,” into a horrific, grimace of “Oohhh no….look at meeeeeeee!” Kaplunk! Ma’ke.

In Hawaiian, Ma’ke means. Dead!

It is said that the whole purpose behind taking a selfie is to show your mood or expression while you are doing or asked to do something.

Maybe, but I think a selfie is much more. No matter what age a person is, whether a selfie is taken to capture a mood or an expression, I think a selfie or 33 shelfies is really about self-discovery in the moment.

Bangladesh, India All Rights Reserved

It’s not about vanity, but a little bit of self-consciousness blends quite well with self-discovery of oneself; which to me, it’s about facing a new reality of how I see myself, and how others might see me. And I think, it’s deeper than face value.

That selfie image has a deeper sense as we really look into it, we are really looking deep into our innerself and asking; Who am I?

As we travel in and out of every milestone of aging, the answer to that question begs for self-discovery, and self-reflection.

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Where Are The Children?

I am afraid Maestro, the children are gone…

My heart is broken.

It is something I knew deep inside would likely happen one day, but it would be such a moment that I would never wish for nor would want to face, although I knew, I would recognize.

It would be “That Moment” when I realized the child like essence of my wonderment, what I’ve always kept dear to my heart and in my appreciation of others with like-minded spirit, a quiet devotion of a reservoir of free, child-like creativity that would sadly, no longer exist. At that moment, its creative motion would have already begun to decline.

Similarly is the wonderment of young children, that abundance of innocence of laughter and smiles, and anticipation with no need for explanation, only the satisfaction of joy which discovery brings us but suddenly falls into silence. Then that inevitable moment when there is complete silence.

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There is no sound. There is no visual. There are no sensory perceptions. There is nothing. Please help me. Where did the children go?

The description of children is the child-like essence of boundless imagination and limitless creativity.

Do adults lose their imagination?

As an adult, you would now use past experiences and knowledge to come up with something viable. It is no less creative, but it’s not as wonder-like as what a child or the child in us would come up with. We’ve gained more knowledge over time, but we lose imagination.”

The maestro within my heart, begins to slow even when I stand under the spotlight of the conductor’s podium, an imaginary platform from which I would yearn to create song and dance for all to see and experience, even in the absence of an audience.

For many of us, even if we no longer produce expressions of spontaneous art, except perhaps only sporadic pieces of random thought, the audience of “no audience” in the empty concert hall falls deaf to the resonating hum of silent spirits and ghosts of so many others who preceded us throughout time.

I strain to hear my motivation as whispers of “Bravo” fades quickly to fragments of self-doubt and loneliness as I stare at the blinking cursor on the white sheet of paper of my computer screen. My fingers like faithful guardians wait for a cue from the maestro to lift up, engage, express for all to hear, for all to see, for all to feel. To bring forth creativity as I so eagerly begged to unleash during my days as a working man toiling as many others doing jobs to survive rather than to flourish in ecstasy of the love to create!

Ecstasy, noun, plural, ecstasies.

Rapturous delight. An overpowering emotion or exaltation; a state of sudden, intense feeling.

The frenzy of poetic inspiration.

Mental transport or rapture from the contemplation of divine things.

But then, it occurred. Slowly at first, as a curious notion that my mind once filled with imaginative thoughts could multi-task within the matrix of cerebral matter for hours on end, and dreams continued the momentum to finish the musical score even as I slept. Slowly, the tempo ceased.

And then, as a curious notion the images within my mind became less frequent, less robust, less spontaneous giving way instead to reason which spawned into doubt, and then temporizing paralyses.

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My need to sleep wasn’t to dream, but to escape.

Where did such creativity come from?

Where did such creativity go?

What is the difference between creativity and imagination?

The biggest difference between creativity and imagination is that imagination is thinking of something, be it an object or place, or time that isn’t present nor exists, while creativity is doing something meaningful fruitful with what you’ve imagined.”

I am sorry for the lapse in writing to you. I am sorry, that weeks have turned into months, and cracked clay of the dried lake yields little life or promise and nothing more than the drought of a response. But I seek understanding myself. I seek to find answers to what seems to be a barren landscape of lost imagination, even though there is evidence of moisture beneath upturned rocks.

Valley of Balls, Shetpe, Kazakhstan. All Rights Reserved.

How sad. How many rocks must I turn over, when behold, there are thousands on the desert floor! I am afraid, as self-doubt fills my mind as easily as ominous storm clouds fill the desert sky.

Can you lose your creativity?

It is said, that you cannot lose your creativity because it is always within you But you can lose touch with it. In many ways I would presume, and we lose our ability to connect with it. Or worse, an early demise, if we lose our faith in our creative ability.”

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Without a doubt, let me walk through as many Sunsets until I find day break.


Please sit.

I confess, that I am struggling to gather my thoughts about the New Year 2021.

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I feel empty. As a droplet of water falling into a hallowed oak barrel, the dampness of loneliness echoes within its darkened chamber.

Yes, while I hear the rustle of the last Autumn leaves giving way to the wind of Winter buffeting outside, the harmonic sound of water droplets tick away by its aquatic metronome.

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A metronome, from ancient Greek μέτρον and νέμω, is a device that produces an audible click or other sound at a regular interval that can be set by the user, typically in beats per minute. Musicians use the device to practice playing to a regular pulse. Metronomes typically include synchronized visual motion.Wikipedia

By myth of tradition, the New Year is supposed to be optimistically happy, or cautiously optimistic, or somber. The natural phenomena of the changing season as the chill of Winter sweeps over the land, and the shortened days elicits feelings of not only wanting happiness but transcends us into depths of sadness, perhaps depression and certainly self-reflection.

The knowledge and sophistication of, do I dare say, “modern” science may distort what our ancestors believed was the way to their New Year. Likewise, it distorts what we believe to be our beliefs of the way to our New Year.

So, let us take a look at the ancient origin of the New Year:

On the 1 st January of every year, many countries around the world celebrate the beginning of a new year.  But there is nothing new about New Year’s.  In fact, festivals and celebrations marking the beginning of the calendar have been around for thousands of years. 

While some festivities were simply a chance to drink and be merry, many other New Year celebrations were linked to agricultural or astronomical events.  In Egypt, for instance, the year began with the annual flooding of the Nile, which coincided with the rising of the star Sirius. The Phoenicians and Persians began their new year with the spring equinox, and the Greeks celebrated it on the winter solstice.  The first day of the Chinese New Year, meanwhile, occurred with the second new moon after the winter solstice”.

The Celebration of Akitu in Babylon

The earliest recorded New Year’s festivity dates back some 4,000 years to ancient Babylon, and was deeply intertwined with religion and mythology.  For the Babylonians of ancient Mesopotamia, the first new moon following the vernal equinox—the day in late March with an equal amount of sunlight and darkness—heralded the start of a new year and represented the rebirth of the natural world. They marked the occasion with a massive religious festival called Akitu (derived from the Sumerian word for barley, which was cut in the spring) that involved a different ritual on each of its 11 days. During the Akitu, statues of the gods were paraded through the city streets, and rites were enacted to symbolize their victory over the forces of chaos. Through these rituals the Babylonians believed the world was symbolically cleansed and recreated by the gods in preparation for the new year and the return of spring.”


So here we are, in the present.

If time wasn’t so selfishly fleeting, if time didn’t leave us behind time and time again, I would at least allow credence that time has been the most reliable lover of humankind, but in fact if you want to bicker, time is as reliable as an unfaithful lover, always leaving us.

But is this a bad thing? I think not, because who wants to remain in a bad relationship. It is best to let it go.

Between the lessons of Babylon and today, perhaps we should regard the New Year as a doorway between the 12-months past and the day we enter our future.

Many people merely regard the New Year as a single-day event, amounting to let us just discard the past and leave it behind. We seemingly erase the past from our memory the second BIG BEN, the clock of London strikes 12:00 am.

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Big Ben is a tower clock known for its accuracy and for its massive hour bell. Strictly speaking, the name refers only to the bell, which weighs 15.1 tons (13.7 metric tons), but it is commonly associated with the whole clock tower at the northern end of the Houses of Parliament, in the London borough of Westminster.

The tower was designed by Augustus Pugin in a neo-Gothic style. When completed in 1859, its clock was the largest and most accurate four-faced striking and chiming clock in the world.”


Like the threshold of time itself, standing at the doorway between our past and our future; the way to the New Year is what the ancients observed through drought, famine, pestilence, war and conflict itself: Let us not forget the past, but glean lessons from it and be joyful for a happier era of a new dawn.

All Rights Reserved Mr. Hermes Alegre, Philippines

May I wish you a Happy New Year 2021!


Grandma Vanga

What would Grandma Vanga say?

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It is day break of the 2nd day of December 2020. Honolulu.

The broad rays of sunlight is vast. It stretches across the sea, the land, and the mountains. Brilliant yellow-white sunlight appears like white gold splashed against the Royal Blue colored sky!

The sunlight begs us to see!

I cannot believe we are living in the year 2020.

Our society seems so tribal. Warring. Barbaric. Impatient. Demanding. Murderous. Corrupt. Deceitful. Decadent. Self-indulgent.

Should I go on?

Some of us would bow our heads in shame, but many others won’t.

History has proven that civilization evolves, prospers, then topples. By modern definition, it eventually implodes. The finer distinctions of whether such demise is voluntary or involuntary, as an outcome or consequence is actually moot. It ends.

Time therefore, is irrelevant if we realize that our human life span is finite. This meaning, we live and we will die. Sooner or later.

So what happens in between living and dying?

Overtime, we suffer.

Suffer. For what purpose we may ask?

Numerous, worldly religious doctrines have their individual explanations so I won’t dwell into that plane.

The brilliant rays of sunlight stretches across the aged landscape of Baba Vanga’s compassionate face. She appears compassionate for us. Even if she never met us in person.

The sunlight casts shadows within the deepened valleys and ravines of age on Baba Vanga’s face; a brutally honest testimony of human suffering. I weep for her, deeply.

Baba Vanga and many human beings throughout human history, in all parts of the world, as a species have suffered. And some, who likely were not of our species walked the earth suffered as well.

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Who was Baba Vanga?

Vangeliya Pandeva Gushterova (née Dimitrova; Bulgarian: Вангелия Пандева Гущерова née Димитровa; 3 October 1911 – 11 August 1996), commonly known as Baba Vanga (Bulgarian: Баба Ванга, lit. ‘Grandma Vanga’), was a Macedonian Bulgarian mystic, clairvoyant, and herbalist.[2][3][4]

Blind since early childhood, Gushterova spent most of her life in the Rupite area in the Kozhuh mountains in Bulgaria.[5][6][7] Zheni Kostadinova claimed in 1997 that millions of people believed she possessed paranormal abilities.[8] Source:

Throughout her lifetime, her ability “to see” in dimensions beyond what most of us are incapable of; was for the purpose to warn of adverse changes to humanity, to counsel, and to teach us lessons if we were so inclined to learn.

The sun rises quickly. Its track is mathematically precise and predicted.

Is clairvoyant phenomenon as mathematically precise and predictable?

I wouldn’t deny its realm just because no one has been able to quantify this aspect of realm.

But while science can define today the frequencies and spectrum of light, both visible and invisible does it mean the latter doesn’t exist?

No, it does exist. It’s just that our eyes can’t see that certain spectrum of light.

Even though Grandma Vanga was blind, she could see much more than her human eyesight allowed. She could see much more than those with eyesight.

How she was able to translate and interpret what she was able to see in her mind, both in real time and into the future is what even in the year Two-thousand and Twenty (2020) remains a mystery.

What is intriguing is that before Grandma Vanga died, she said a young child, a ten-year old blind girl living in France, was to inherit her clairvoyant abilities. That young child today, would be 34-years old.

Grandma Vanga died on August 11, 1996 at age 84, in Sofia, Bulgaria.



Sometimes we go through life alone. We have those moments whereby we reflect alone. Sometimes we need someone to carry us and comfort us, even if there is no one.

This song means a lot to me because it carried me through my childhood through today. It is the kind of song that resides deep inside for some reason, and emerges sometimes when I least expect but usually for a reason to comfort.

The spirit of it never ends.

This solo rendition by Mr. Grant Perez truly captures what resonates inside me to this day. It is incredibly timeless and I would imagine it is as well for all of us who crossed that river as we reflected on the current of life, or are crossing it today.

All Rights Reserved to the original song writers, producers and performers. All Rights Reserved to YouTUBE who contributes so much for us to learn, share and enjoy.

Of course, all rights reserved and special thanks to the talent of Mr. Perez.

“Moon river, wider than a mile
I’m crossing you in style some day
Oh, dream maker, you heart breaker
Wherever you’re goin’, I’m goin’ your way

Two drifters, off to see the world
There’s such a lot of world to see
We’re after the same rainbow’s end, waitin’ ’round the bend
My huckleberry friend, moon river, and me.”

Source: LyricFindSongwriters: Johnny Mercer / Henry ManciniMoon River (Sung by Audrey Hepburn) lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC.


To you all a very, very early spirited Holiday wish as expressed by these amazing vocalists.

I wish I could sing but I can’t. That’s probably fortunate for you because I sound like a walrus so let’s not get into irrelevant issues, let’s just be happy and spirited and giving!


May I wish the best for you wherever you are for this holiday season and forever.

All Rights Reserved to these incredible musicians and vocalists.

Grant Perez Have Yourself A Merry Christmas!

Shaggy Have Yourself A Merry christmas!

Hoku Winner Josh Tatofi Merry Christmas To You!

Grant Perez Souls!

Genavieve Linkowski Bravo!

Vazque Sounds!

I’ve been a fan of Jose Feliciano and so, here he is through the ages:

Feliciano was born in 1945 in Lares, Puerto Rico and has been blind since birth. He was five when he and his family migrated to Spanish Harlem and it was in New York City where he developed his love for music and crafted his skills on the guitar.Feb 12, 2020

Jose Feliciano Feliz Nativad!

In order to have Peace on Earth, we have to live it!

Thank You!

Greetings, it’s 7:11 am HST, Saturday, November 07, 2020. May I thank you ALL for your loyal and dedicated energies in visiting my blogsite and for your so very kind support and remarks!

Your kind spirited comments are what I always wanted from an audience of readers of like-minds, and that is to support a global community of down-to-earth human beings so willing to share, learn, explore and grow in the direction they desire! Ultimately, your growth will emerge in a conscious desire to inspire yourself and many others as you forge ahead.

Can you imagine a global world of like minded people inspiring humanity! Yes! You are a part of that!

You have found a place. It does not matter if your space is a micron or a UY SCUTI, the largest known star in the universe, a hypergiant with a radius around 1,700 times larger than the sun.

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You exist! And you occupy a place in this world! You belong! And you can do good and inspire others to do the same! We strive in our own way, to encourage life rather than to destroy life.

Believe me, there are people reading this right now who are from so many countries around the world. A multi-national global community of like-minded people represented by each of you! You occupy this space! You have meaning! You count! We all count!

May I thank you for lifting my heart when it is heavy, to brighten my days when dark clouds loom above, for inspiring me with your comments and support, and providing optimism when the world around us seems as if we don’t recognize it anymore.

I like an innocent heart. I like an innocent soul. The core of innocence no matter who you are, no matter what country you live in, no matter what circumstances face you in adversity. As like-minded people, even if we sit alone, like a candle flickering at night you are beacon of light!

May I thank you. Each of you. I see your light. Thank you!



My room is dark. Until I light the candle.

The flame of the smokeless candle is magical.

I think if you see what my eyes see, you feel what my heart feels.

I think that is because we are taken back to a time thousands of years ago.

A time, we are familiar with.

The flame melts the wax, which softens like white molten lava puddling to escape eventually, and it does.

Given time, the wax will overflow and create a fascinating layered wax-scape which fascinates my imagination.

I can sit for hours in its comforting glow. At night, the candle flame will lull me to sleep. The glass container is large and deep and away from any obstructions much like a lonely lighthouse casting its beacon across the salt-laden sea.

I can drift in time forever…

How I miss our time together. Thousands of years ago. Thousands of lives ago. We rekindle, each time the candle wick is lit, and it’s warm light caresses my memories.

The layered patterns of wax is as magical as the warmth of the glowing, flickering flame.

All Rights Reserved. Gregg Matsushima

The flame inside the clear, tall glass enclosure is nearly oblivious to the drifting air seeping into my room. Gazing deeply, it takes on a life its own, as if the clear glass enclosure is its own life supporting terrarium of ancient prehistoric life captured within.

The more I gaze at this magical essence, the more my mind drifts back in time, somewhere in time, somewhere many life times ago. It is as if the flame rekindles my love for it and for you.

My reunion with candle light is provocative. The candle resurrects its own life of memories and mine. Its intimacy with my senses is as timeless as time itself. It is so familiar and yet always new.

And without a doubt, I regret to say, the more I try to remember the memories, the more I forget.

Who invented this amazing wax candle?

It is hard to say because of the inconsistent nature of recorded history, but by some accounts the candle was made by the Romans beginning in 500 BC. These were dipped candles made from tallow wax which is derived from the meat of cows and sheep. Lit by an unwound strand of twine. While candles were present in Roman times, the main source of light came from oil lamps.

Evidence of candles made from whale fat in China dates back to the Qin Dynasty about 221-206 BC. And in India, temple candles were made from boiling cinnamon.

All Rights Reserved. Unknown.

By further accounts, the ancient Egyptians used rush lights or torches made by soaking the pithy core of reeds in melted animal fat. However, rush lights by design had no wick like a true candle.

The early origins of candles have been used as a source of light, and to illuminate celebrations for more than 5,000 years and I would presume the flames was a source of worship or ritual and admiration.

Fire history” is the ecological science of the study of the history of wildfires, which is a sub-discipline of fire ecology. Patterns of forest fires in historical and prehistorical time provide information relevant to the pattern of vegetation of fire ecology.

Source: Wikipedia

From the study of fire-myths and the cultures of primitive races, it is usually presumed that fire was first obtained from natural sources as volcanoes, bush fires, lightning, sparks struck from stones, or by dry branches rubbing together in the fierce winds.

I think there is more. Such wonderment attests to the essence of humanity. As it is, when we look up into the night sky and gaze into the sparkling glimmer of stars and planets in our Universe, we are seeing the wonder of our Universe as seen through the eyes of primitive human kind and I venture, animal kind.

And somewhere along the line of history, the flickering flame of the candle tells the same tales of romance for as long as our own ability to feel and understand love. The humble candle light in its quiet presence, weeps of lost love, wisdom, tragic invasion, destruction and death, and endless hope.

All Rights Reserved. Gregg Matsushima

The flame of the candle is hypnotic. Its flickering glare compels a deeper awareness, a deeper wanting to rekindle the memories of my mind from a thousand years ago. Then as it is now, in quiet. Peace. Comfort.


I know, we always joke about it until it gets to us…

“Ooooh, he’s just nuts!”

“Ooooh, she’s a psycho!”

“Ohhhh, does this bother you at all?”

“It does, but I need the job.”

“Oh gosh, I think I am going nuts!”

“Oooooh every family has ONE!”

Pardon the language, but the last declaration really says it all: Holy crap! Every family has one?

On Netflix: “Strangers from Hell”, 2019. TV-MA. All Rights Reserved.

I recently saw a Korean horror movie on Netflix. It was supposed to be a bit of horror, and a bit of comedy. Well, maybe not pure comedy but tongue-in-cheek creepy, dark humor because it was so absurd, because it was just too real. It was an interesting show, great writing, great dialogue, great suspense, great cinematography, great psycho characters, great acting! It was so great, it was scary!

Now, this wasn’t supernatural scary like the little girl in the white dress with heavy black mascara around her eyes, it was “real kind of scary” because it was a statement about psychos-ville in the mind of a professional dentist, a creepy motherly landlord, a student on a virtually zero budget and has to find someplace, anyplace to live on a dime, and a bunch of other creepy tenants with creepy issues who all live in this one creepy building complex.

It sort of reminded me of my former work place.

To be candid, just because we all work in the same workplace doesn’t mean we all share some commonality in our upbringing, how we were raised, how we were treated, how we treat others, and all sorts of things which perhaps include how we regard decency, politeness and chaste which we sort of lean toward.

But the gist of the lesson, if there is one to cope, is if you’re sane and the others around you are insane, you’re probably right. It’s NOT you.

In a room full of psychos, they all regard each other as “normal”. And if we reverse the viewpoint, the family full of psychos will regard YOU as the crazy one: “Oooooh every family has ONE!”

As the movie plays, I injected some moot rationale into the movie: Could this be real? Could it really happen? Is there an apartment complex out there just like this?

And then, there’s something about that nagging one-liner exclamation of psycho villa: “Ohhhh, every family has ONE!”

How about two, three, four?

By now the suspense is killing you, and you want to see this movie end to really find out the bottom of this and finally, decipher the meaning of life or as it may be the case. Death.

So let’s just say there’s a brilliant student who took the challenge to make sense of formal government Census confusion and consider this:

“There are approximately 9 billion people on the planet.

“If we say that the average family size is 4, then the number of families would be approximately 2.25 billion.

“Of course, the actual value is much less than this, but this is a good place to start .”


Sooo, if we assume every family has just one psycho, it’s no wonder why lately, we think the world’s gone nuts!


Not all the time, but sometimes someone will ask me if I speak Pidgin? So, being local to Hawaii, it’s not uncommon for me to reply, “Yes, sometimes, but it depends.”

You know: “If can, can, if not, not.”

This response to non-pidgin fans is usually met with a puzzled smile and neutral and polite….silence.

In this case, I mean to say, it depends on the social situation, the social context, and who I am speaking with. But most of the time, it comes out because of the mood. And the mood wins hands down, if your Pidgin comes out or not.

In the other case, it takes a little bit of little effort to understand and talk story in pidgin.

And where are you mostly likely to hear pidgin? In the most casual and informal setting between people reaching out to each other with humor!

Talking pidgin can be seriously fun!

Although it is a cultural “Language”, pidgin isn’t in the same league as recognized foreign languages taught in academia such as French, Spanish, Russian, German, Japanese, Cantonese, Mandarin, Vietnamese, Tagalog, Ilokano, Samoan, Tongan, Micronesian and many more languages heard in Hawaii.

So this Post began when I friend thanked me for sharing a Youtube about Shaolin philosophy which he wanted to say he was familiar with and teaches some to those principles in his class.

I replied in short, “In the cosmos, there is no coincidence.

My friend replied: “Roger That”.

Roger that dates back to US radio communication as early as 1941, based on then-use of the given name Roger in the US military phonetic alphabet for the word for the letter R. Here, the Roger stands for the initial R in “(Message) received.”


Feeling upbeat and in a little philosophical mood, I added in broken Pidgin: “Az why all da asteroids look da same Brah!

Wen you in da cosmos, kinda hard ‘fo spock wat da speck is no?

Sooo dey all get puka face, so we can tell’em apart from da slick UFO space craft.

Az why no ‘mo coincidence in da cosmos.

In the real world far, far away “Pidgin” was invented in a far, far, away place from where I was born and raised which is Kaimuki, Oahu.

So let’s open the text books here.

By Nigerian definition: “The origins of Nigerian Pidgin English lie historically in trade contact between the British and local people in the seventeenth century. It is part of a continuum of English Pidgins and Creoles spoken other West-African countries such as Cameroon, Sierra Leone and Ghana.”

By Chinese definition: “Pidgin originated as a Chinese mispronunciation of the English word “business”. Following the first and second war from1839 to 1942, Pidgin English spread north to Shanghai and other treaty ports. Pidgin usage began to decline in the late 19th century when Chinese and missionary schools began teaching standard English.”

By Hawaiian definition:Hawaiian pidgin evolved from the sugar industry (Plantation Owners) which began in the mid 1850’s on Maui. Immigrant workers came in waves from different countries to work in the sugarcane fields. … These new languages were thrown into the mix and is today what many locals speak on a daily basis – Hawaiian pidgin.”

By Hawaiian Magazine defintion, check this out:

So try check’em out and have some fun deciphering Hawaiian Pidgin words and making your own sentences and talk Pidgin!

Here are some outstanding Pidgin Youtube fun presented by well-known local Hawaii comedians: Andy Bumatai, and the late Rap Reiplinger. Please All Rights Reserved to Mr.Bumatai and Mr. Reiplinger coz I no like get da kine scoldings ‘k?

Andy Bumatai’s Daily Pidgin: Tourist Tips All Rights Reserved.

Andy Bumatai’s Daily Pidgin #55: Pidgin Phrases All Rights Reserved.

Andy Bumatai’s Daily Pidgin #76: Cockaroach Horror Stories All Right Reserved.

Andy Bumatai’s Daily Pidgin #77: Roach Stories and Hana Hou All Rights Reserved.

RAP’s HAWAII (2003) This one is back-to-back 50-minutes of fantastic fun so get your popcorn ready ‘k! All Rights Reserved.

Have fun!!!

The Day I Became A HiPPO

I woke up this morning and the ugly truth struck me.

After decades of struggling to lose weight, I relent, it was all futile, somewhat meaningless. Phftt! Kaput!

The proof was there. How could I not see it? I’ve spent hundreds upon hundreds of dollars on fat-burning supplements, on simple to complex exercise plans, all-in-one and all-for-one diet plans, natural and unnatural diet pills, Shaolin Monk eating principles, Man-in-the-Wilderness Youtube Surviving on nothing indoctrinations, blender this and blender that and still…

It was the same. Day after day, year after year. Tribulation after tribulation. I just couldn’t admit it until today I saw my tiny feet beneath my overhanging belly, it was the day I became a HiPPO.

All Rights Reserved. Hippo.

All that tossing and turning, and rolling here and there on my Minimalist futon all night long just meant what I suspect my ancestors all knew, that while one day I would walk upright and my true self would emerge when the sun set and the nocturnal life in the river repossessed my dreams. The inescapable truth would bare itself as a pudgy hippo with tiny feet waddling around. And so be it.

I tried eating lots of vegetables, just vegetables. Vegetarian, Vegan, imitation Dim Sum. Great stuff and a bit costly. And while I did experience healthy “feel good” improvements, I generally dislike raw vegetables unless I get into a nutritional, bio-adversity deficiency and then I will force feed myself.

Hey did you know that, “Hippos eat on average 40kg (88 lb) of grass a night and maintain their fatty figures with a sedentary lifestyle, spending most of their time wallowing to cool off and digest their food.”

Source: BBC Earth. All Rights Reserved Ms. Ella Davies, January 20, 2015.

So yes, I hear you!

Maybe the real cause of my pudginess has less to do with ancestral HiPPO DNA and more to do with today’s behavioural and environmental factors directly proportionate to a sedentary lifestyle (Pre- and POST COVID19 Solitary confinement) and over consumption of convenience foods!

Hey, when was the last time I went for a nice secluded walk on the beach, in bright sunlight, under blue skies and tradewinds from the Koolau Mountains?

All Rights Reserved. Magic Island at Ala Moana Beach Park.

When was the last time I intently sat down, and smelled the salt air from the sea and watch the waves close by?

All Rights Reserved. Hanauma Bay, Island of Oahu

Or made it a point of life to go outside to greet the morning sun?

All Rights Reserved. The Joy Of Rain.

When was the last time I stood in pouring rain in just my swim shorts to relish fresh rain water cascading from my head to my barefoot toes?

All Rights Reserved. There Was A Time When People Really Talked.

When was the last time I held someone’s hand and shared a real-life moment in person, and not just one of a million hours over a Smart Phone six feet away?

All Rights Reserved. Koolau Mountain Range. Hawaii Magazine.

Today I became a HiPPO. I don’t like it but I’ve come to accept it. I’ve come to accept what I’ve become, physically anyway.

More importantly, in acccepting I place no fault or blame on myself or anyone else. It’s not something to fault nor to blame anyway. At this very moment, it is what it is.

So I will wash my face, brush my teeth, take a deep breath and say, “Okay, I want to try again.”

Won’t you tell me, “I can be hopeful again?”

Won’t you tell me, “Take a another step foward and do something that’s really meaningful again, and hopefully sustaining”.

Won’t you tell me, “For sure! Try it again.”

Won’t you tell me, ” Just keep it simple. Just keep trying!”

Won’t you tell me, “YAY! You’ll get there. One step at a time!”

All Rights Reserved. Hippo.

WOT About Playlets

News Announcement!

June 19, 2020

Now live! A new category of intrigue. Entertainment for readers, and an audience of theater.

You are invitied to see the new tab: WOT About Playlets.

A Playlet is a short play. It consists of a single Act. An Act is divided into scenes.

Audience imagination required.

The lights dim. The curtains part.

Want more Playlets?

Leave a comment here!



Like many writers, I sit in darkness in the early morning or as it may be, in the late of night, away from civilization. The isolation eases my mind. The glow from my laptop monitor illuminates the words on the white sheet. My thoughts, my feelings come to life.

In many ways, the self-isolation of writing manifests itself as an artifical manner this time being isolated and alone within the mandates of an authority to lock down. But although our bodies may be in lock down, our minds are not.

Much like the lyrics of a song being crafted from within the soul of a musician as he or she reflects in darkness to the voices of people pleading for salvation.

I am sooo sorry for the thousands of people unemployed from being layed off or trimmed from their company’s ranks, as the Corona Virus spreads like wild fire and societies around the globe attempt to control, perhaps contain its deadly inferno.

How well do our lives burn as the heat of the viral flames blinds us, engulfs us, changes us and in some cases; perhaps many cases, destroys us before it consumes us.

And in the path of the corona virus, all that remains is a faint glow of viral life, now contained but seething to stay alive so it can continue its wrath upon the earth.

But there are survivors. There are millions of people who are surviving. We sit in our homes, in our apartments, in our tents, under a bridge, or under the canopy of a tree with a blanket of leaves to protect us in silence. As we wait.

Even in the light of day, we wait in darkness for an official word that we are once again free.

With all rights reserved to the song writers, publishers, and performers of this classic, insightful song: The Sound of Silence.

Allow me to share this with millions of people affected by the Corona Virus and the consequence we now live in….

The Sound of Silence.

Hello darkness, my old friend I’ve come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence
In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone
‘Neath the halo of a street lamp
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silenceAnd in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dare
Disturb the sound of silence”Fools” said I, “You do not know
Silence like a cancer grows
Hear my words that I might teach you
Take my arms that I might reach you”
But my words like silent raindrops fell
And echoed
In the wells of silence And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made
And the sign flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming
And the sign said, “The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls”
And whisper’d in the sounds of silenceSource: LyricFind

Songwriters: Paul Simon The Sound of Silence lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

All Rights Reserved to Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel who inspires all.

All Rights Reserved to YouTube who reaches out to the world.

Be safe everyone, reach out for help, think kindly of yourself and others who care about you.


It is day 2 of the New Year 2020.

The day of your RESOLUTION.

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It’s pretty dramatic. It’s judgement day. This is the day, which makes men men, and women women. You stand tall, puff up your chest, flex your muscles and declare out loud, what you resolve to do in the coming year!

Which means, you declare either 1) what you failed to do last year, or 2) what you never even started to do last year.

So here you stand, huffing and puffing!

“For the New Year 2020 I resolve to do this….”

Before we continue, what exactly is a New Year’s Resolution? I think most of us think of a New Year’s Resolution as a sort of absolute, steroid “To Do” list, but deep inside it’s a flabby “give me some slack” Horoscope wish list.

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Yeah, I know: you want to be a Chinese Dragon spewing dynamic flames and clawing your way up the food chain, but you’re deemed by Chinese celestial destiny to be a Goat, either an ambitious Goat or a lazy goat. Still, a goat is a goat. Certainly, it isn’t any where close to being a rip-roaring, fire-breathing Chinese Dragon.

So you resolve to be a Dragon in the New Year 2020? Pretty ambitious if you ask me, with all the traits of a Dragon, clawing your way to the top, and devouring all your challengers along the way! Stuff warrior stories are made of!

But is it you?

Back to the question, what is a resolution anyway?

Here’s a simple definition.

res·o·lu·tion/ˌrezəˈlo͞oSH(ə)n/Learn to pronounce noun

  1. A firm decision to do or not to do something.

2.the quality of being determined or resolute.

Hold that thought for a short second.

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So look, don’t feel bad if you’re not exactly the Poster Child of the New Year’s Resolution, just keep in mind, you made the list. You’re a Goat!

You have purpose, and in the celestial sphere of the Chinese Zodiac you are right along side of the steroid fire-breathing Dragon!

That says a great deal!

Remember: He or she who avoids fire does not become BBQ. (I made that up myself you know!)

So view the Dragon as your fail safe Master of Wisdom. Be yourself, and capture all the virtue you owe to yourself just because, you’re you!

Happy New Year 2020!!

Resolve to be you! But if you’re an evil hamster, please change right now! Resolve to be good, not evil.

Yes, there is always room for improvement to make life happy or happier. But don’t do stuff that is counter-productive just because it’s vogue to do but it’s just not you!

In the greater sphere of things, whoever you are, Goat, Dragon, Horse, Pig, Snake, whatever, you have a place with others who you can enjoy and be friends with. That’s the sphere of things.

Be kind to yourself. Be gentle to yourself. Be reasonable to yourself.

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If you decide the time is right, and the mood is right and you feel things “are right” to make a decision you’ve thought of making, or you’re forced to make, or you’re obligated to make, well, follow your instincts first.

Do yourself a double-take, before you leap (Goats leap I think?), consider the implications, the consequences, the impacts of your decision to do something, or not to do something.

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Change for the sake of change, may or may not be wise or true. Sometimes its best to do nothing, and wait and see.

May we wish each other all a good year, to try or not to try, and give ourselves slack to try, and make mistakes so we have every opportunity to learn from making mistakes.

And maybe even, if things are “right” we can incorporate a safe resolution to do something nice.

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Happy New Year 2020!!

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We made it through another year! Congratulations! Considering the turbulence of these past 12-months, we ought to pat overselves on the back, very gently, for we survived.

As an American, the tradition of looking at the 1st day of any New Year is sobering.

Things that are sobering make you feel sober, or serious and solemn. The Latin root, sobrius, means “not intoxicated,” which is also the original definition of sober. In otherwords, it’s a reality check.

As a senior citizen, depending on your age, the New Year might be a mixed bag of emotions. The sentiments of the joy of Christmas or the Holiday Season may or may not be so universal as we are more aware that the world is a bigger place, and different cultures regard such milestones differently, and more so our sentiments have become shaped or reshaped by our socio-economic realities, the political climate, and our own sense of personal growth and personal defeats.

That being said, we ask: Where are we? Do we regard life in a singular perspective or a multi-dimensional perspective? Is our world so small or so large for us to make any difference, or for us to even care?

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The older I become, the more I feel as though I am a space probe about to exit my solar system as I move forward toward the fringes of the Universe. And boy, what I am beginning to see is unrecognizable. Truly, the fringes of this new world as it unveils itself is immeasurable.

So this year, I wish everyone another “reset” for the beginning of the New Year in the year Two-thousand and Twenty!

We have to leave the past for better or for worse, and see what we can do, or will do, or should do, in our lives this year! Or maybe, we can’t do, won’t do, shouldn’t do…anything. Maybe we aren’t in any position to do anything?

This will likely require all of us to rethink and reframe all that we were taught to believe, whether true or partially true, whether we have lived life blindly without question, or whether our life’s outcome wasn’t what we had believed in the first place. And this will have a bearing, on how we proceed into the year 2020 and beyond.

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And so it all depends.

It depends if we have freedom or not. It depends if we are free and safe, or if we are in bondage and in danger. It depends if we live in safety, or if we live in fear. It depends if we live in happiness, or if we live in despair.

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So why the change of sentiment? Did life’s soulful landscape suddently change from optmism to pessimism? Or has the soulful landscape changed from pessimism to optimism?

At it’s core, let us take a casual look at our mindset and who we think we are.

op·ti·mism/ˈäptəˌmizəm/Learn to pronouncenoun

  1. 1.Hopefulness and confidence about the future or the successful outcome of something. “The talks had been amicable and there were grounds for optimism. “Similar: hopefulness, hope, confidence, buoyancy, cheer, good cheer, cheerfulness, guineness, positiveness, positive attitude. Opposite: pessimium.
  2. 2.PHILOSOPHY the doctrine, especially as set forth by Leibniz, that this world is the best of all possible worlds.

pes·si·mism/ˈpesəˌmizəm/Learn to pronouncenoun

  1. A tendency to see the worst aspect of things or believe that the worst will happen; a lack of hope or confidence in the future.”The dispute cast an air of deep pessimism over the future of the peace talks. “Similar:defeatism, negative thinking, negativity, expecting the worst, doom and gloom, gloom, gloominess, hopelessness, lack of hope, cynicism, fatalism, depression, despair, melancholy, despondency, dejection, angst, distrust, doubt. Weltschmerz looking on the black side
  2. PHILOSOPHY a belief that this world is as bad as it could be or that evil will ultimately prevail over good.
All Rights Reseerved
Perfectly Balanced refers to a quote from Thanos in Avengers: Infinity War which later became used in memes about the film, popularly shared in communities like /r/thanosdidnothingwrong, and is often paired with images showing a 50/50 split.
In Avengers: Infinity War, Thanos shows a young Gamora a knife and says of it, “Perfectly balanced, as all things should be”.

Is there a middle ground?

In youth, we framed our life as “success” in everything. To be the Top Dog of everything and all else. In middle age, we framed our lives as a “compromise” between what we had hoped to achieve and what we’ve failed to achieve. As a senior citizen, I think we re-framed our lives in doubt and cautious uncertainty (yes, that space probe feeling. Going where no human being has gone before).

According to Jeremy Dean, a psychology researcher at University College London and the author of PsyBlog. For more on how to understand your mind with the science of psychology, join PsyBlog’s 38,000 readers, he says:

“[Studies like this,] is that both optimism and pessimism have important roles to play in people’s lives.

“Being optimistic allows people to pursue their goals in a positive way: to dream a bigger and better dream, which they can work their way towards. Optimists also seem to respond better to positive feedback, and part of being optimistic may be generating this feedback for themselves, i.e. thinking positive thoughts.

“On the other hand being pessimistic may help people reduce their natural anxiety and to perform better. Also, pessimists seem to respond better to negative feedback. They like to hear what the problems were, so they can correct them. Again, part of why pessimists generate these sorts of negative thoughts is that it helps them perform better.

“So it’s different strokes for different folks. Optimism and pessimism aren’t just accidents; this evidence suggests they are two different, but effective, strategies of coping with a complex and unpredictable world.”

Source: . All Rghts Reserved.

Moving forward it’s the year 2020! Where are the Jetsons?

The Jetsons. All Rights Reserved.

The Jetsons is an American animated sitcom produced by Hanna-Barbera Productions. It originally aired in prime time from September 23, 1962, to March 17, 1963, then later in syndication. New episodes were produced in 1985 to 1987 as part of The Funtastic World of Hanna-Barbera block. It was Hanna-Barbera’s Space Age counterpart to The Flintstones.[2]

The Flintsones. All Rights Reserved

While the Flintstones lived in a world which was a comical version of the “stone age“, with machines powered by birds and dinosaurs, the Jetsons live in a comical version of a century in the future,[3][4] with elaborate robotic contraptions, aliens, holograms, and whimsical inventions.[5][6] The original series comprised 24 episodes and aired on Sunday nights on ABC beginning September 23, 1962, with prime time reruns continuing through September 22, 1963. It debuted as the first program broadcast in color on ABC-TV.[7] (Only a handful of ABC-TV stations were capable of broadcasting in color in the early 1960s.) In contrast, The Flintstones, while always produced in color, was broadcast in black-and-white for its first two seasons.[8]

“Following its prime time run, the show aired on Saturday mornings for decades, starting on ABC for the 1963–64 season and then on CBS and NBC.[9] New episodes were produced for syndication from 1985 to 1987. No further specials or episodes of the show were produced after 1989 due to the deaths of stars George O’Hanlon and Mel Blanc. The 1990 film Jetsons: The Movie served as the series finale to the television show. Twenty-seven years later, a new direct-to-video animated movie, The Jetsons & WWE: Robo-WrestleMania!, was released in 2017.”


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Perhaps the wisdom gained, is to acknowledge that the past year has ended with two introspective questions: Have I changed? Have we changed?

Whether we are the Flintstones or the Jetsons, as we more forward into the year 2020, we may have to rethink and reinvent ourselves in how we view ourselves and the world (which may be as local as our immediate situation, or as global as our preconceived future or our creative imagination).

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Introducing the Great Gazoo from Planet Zetox, sent to primitive Earth to redeem himself by aiding earthlings such as Barney Rubble and Fred Flintstone by granting them wishes. In his first encounter with the cavemen, he makes it possible for Fred to treat his wife Wilma to dinner at the posh restaurant she’s practically bribed him to take her to. But as Fred and Barney will discover, there’s always a down side to Gazoo’s generosity. Written by Morganalee



THERE it was.

Once alive, vibrant, full of potential. Now very wilted. Dead.

I don’t feel like a murderer but the carcass doesn’t lie.

OMG! I didn’t mean to do it!

My celery is dead. It’s cold, limp, lifeless carcass crys out: Murderer! Murderer!

The cold compartment of my refrigerator vegetable bin, is like the cold compartment of a morgue.

I almost don’t recognize it.

I lifted one of its limbs. It bent. More like sagged, like any lifeless body void of active molecules would sag. I feel guilt. I didn’t mean to do it.

I recollect now. I had given way to fast food. Jack in the Box. Burger King. McDonalds. I forgot about my fresh stalk of celery which i purchased two weeks ago with great intentions. Was it that long ago? Maybe it was longer?

Oh my. Maybe I am guilty? Maybe I am a murderer of celery?

Time waits for no one.

I had an inspiring intention to juice a fresh stalk of celery into a magnificent, life enhancing natural juice of vibrancy, to feed my body with life giving vitamins, minerals, enzymes, molecules.

No matter my intentions. I neglected to follow through. Plain and simple, I screwed up.

The wilted, cold, limp carcass of the celery although still “green” in color, will need to be removed from my refrigerator’s vegetable bin. I neglected it. I murdered it. It’s gone.

This is really symbolic to human aging. Particularly, male aging.

I just read an article that as men reach to the ages of 60 through age 70, they become increasingly grumpy, angry, limp. During the age of their 50’s when most men reach a stage of life satisfaction, this state of reality starts a rapid decline as the reality of physical aging, sexual aging, and mental aging begin to manifest itself in aged facial lines, stiff muscles, body and joint aches, dissatifaction and “last ditch attempts” to regain their source of male prowness.

Eventually, after their last ditch attempts to be the quarterback of their living room sofa, the wise old coach on a field of youngsters, the last beer blast to compete with the younger guys, the derived faux satisfaction overtime just leads to confusion, dissatisfaction, perhaps quiet depression, perhaps even old men suicide.

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Tonight, out of curiousity, I googled images of what 50 year old men look like. Then 67 year old men. Then 70 year old men, the age of the article when men experience, “Stay off my Lawn! Not in my yard!” syndrome.

This is supposedly, the window of age when everything seems to irritate and bring out hostilities in some old men. Often, for no reason at all.

The old man is returning home in his car when he notices a young couple walking carefree and happily together with their pet dog on the sidewalk across from the old man’s home. As the old man passes the couple, looks at them and yells out of his car window.

“HEY! Stay off my lawn!’ screams the old man at the couple.

The young couple stunned and shaken, quickly leave. Sadly, their peaceful outing ruined.

The photographs of the old men in their 50’s, 60’s and 70’s. Firstly, my perception has changed. I didn’t think I’d see much “aging” in this window of aged men. But I did. The images don’t lie.

These guys do not look youthful. They’re aged. And so as the article I have mentioned, so do their moods: They get more grumpy. More angry. More frustrated. More dissatified. and sadly, many of these men are clueless about what’s going on. So they just lash out.

A natural phenomenon? Yes. It seems to be.

And I don’t know if this is classic or not, but the old guy will begin to withdraw, retreat, want to be left alone more.

In quiet.

You might see him on a bench alone gazing at nothing except his memories within the matrix of his mind. You might see him slouched over a dinner plate in the corner of a restaurant. One moment, he’s there. The next moment he’s gone. Almost as if, you ask yourself, was he ever there?

In fact, you may not see him at all. The lonely table, leaves no remnants of social interaction.

So the images of these ordinary older men, from at 50 through age 70, suddenly struck me. I’m looking at myself! Even though, deep inside I don’t feel “old”, I honestly don’t feel “young” say as I did 18-months ago.

Something is happening to me.

I feel as though I am reaching to the outer rings of the galaxy or maybe, the outer realms of the Universe, and it spooks me because I have no idea what that place looks like.

Any semblance of knowledge within my mind of recollection feels as though it is the last printed edition of the last hard copy encyclopdia. But who makes hard copy encyclopdias anymore?

I am a realist, I understand obsolescence.

I am making these statements to myself, which define where I am now. What I am feeling this very moment. And you know what? These statements are really questions about aging which I don’t know much about as I approach the fringes of this new world.

In short, in reality, it’s old age is new to me. Knowledge of my prime of life, doesn’t apply to this new age of becoming old.

I have a feeling, as i become old, I will need to learn how to crawl again, before I can walk, before I can run.

My life is changed. No doubt by the gentle fact, that I am getting older and by virtue of this, things in and around my life isn’t the same as when I was in my prime. But I think, it’s very important to reflect upon these realities.

As I age. I become somewhat by default. Alone.

As I age. I become somewhat by choice. Isolated.

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I gaze alone.

All Rights Reserved. Lonely Table. Gertrude Abercrombie.

I eat alone.

I sleep alone.

By alone does not mean, lonely. While yes, sometimes feeling of loneliness permeates, it is not something at all regular.

And that’s the point. Time waits for no one. Things change over time. We’re a bunch of celery.