Sniffle

"Happiness is not a station you arrive at, but a manner of traveling."

- Margaret Lee Runbeck

"A writer is a person for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people."

- Thomas Mann (1875 - 1955)

"He who has much to proclaim one day, stays silently much immersed within himself: he who has to kindle the lightning one day, must for a long time--be a cloud."
- Friedrich Nietzsche

This Cloudia has been much immersed in a bad cold.

Cozy, at first, to lie beneath magazines, gentle handling, and irresponsibility.

Maddening, at last, to be buried in tissues, honking like a goose, unable to concentrate on . . . now what was that I just. . . huh?

Today a Saturday dawned. My motorcycle pawed the turf outside. Dare I? *Sneeze* What the hell!

Together we escaped the surly bonds of home. Back into the world: so rich! So Varied! "Hello everyone." (The throttle feels good)

For a while we can fly and see EVERYTHING. A McMuffin might be nice.

The world is still there: Diamond Head, the gladding crowd, the crowded shopping mall (ride on!). Till Circling home. Fulfilled and smelling of fresh gasoline. God bless motorcycles, and a post (a blog-post!) to chain them to at last. Amen!

Hope you enjoy these disjointed images of my fevered ride . . . . . and my disjointed exclamations. . . Huh? (Sniffle) A L O H A ! Cloudia