The Perks of Disability:

The nice thing about being deafblind is that nobody really expects much from you in terms of earning power or achievement. So, you might as well do what you like doing.
     -Christina Hartman

Dead Christmas Trees:

My beerdrunk soul is sadder than all the dead Christmas trees of the world.
   -Bukowski

Not that I'm any sadder than usual. I just like the metaphor. Dead Christmas trees are really sad. All the huge buildup to the holidays, the anticipation, the waiting, and then the days after? Dead trees lying along the streets, waiting for the next garbage pickup.

Born on Christmas:

 Mass-murderers are simply people who have had ENOUGH.
     -Quentin Crisp, The Naked Civil Servant

The Innkeeper:

Do you know what it is like to run an inn - to run a business, a family, to run anything in this world for me that matter, even your own life? It is like being lost in a forest of a million trees, and each tree is a thing to be done. Is there fresh linen on the all the beds. Did the children put on their coats before they went out? Has the letter been written, the book read? Is there money left in the bank? Today we have food in our bellies and clothes on our backs, but what can we do to make sure that we will have them tomorrow? A million trees. A million things.

Until finally we have eyes for nothing else, and whatever we see turns into a thing. The sparrow lying in the dust at your feet - just a thing to be kicked out the way, not the mystery of death. The calling of children outside your window - just a distraction, an irrelevance, not life, not the wildest mirracle of them all. That whispering in the air that comes sudden and soft from nowhere - only the wind, the wind...

      - Frederick Buechner, The Birth

Are You God?

Butterfly: I can see it. I can see it all. I can see everything there is in this world.

Boy: Are you god?

Butterfly: No. But I think I've met god.

Boy: There's a coincidence. I met god too, once. When I was in the hospital with an injury a while ago... god grieved for my unhappiness and brought me a gift. This little tin box. Inside is magic that will grant any wish, but only once.

    -Inio Asano, Nijigahara Holograph

The Longest Night

It's the longest night of the year in the northern hemisphere. Say a prayer and remember Goethe's final words: more light.

Ever since we crawled out of that primordial slime, that’s been our unifying cry: more light.

Sunlight, torchlight, candlelight, neon, incandescent, light to banish the darkness from our caves, to illuminate our roads, the insides of our refrigerators. Big floods for the night games at Soldier’s Field, little tiny flashlights for those books we read under the covers when we’re supposed to be asleep, light is a metaphor.

Thy word is a lamp unto my feet. Rage, rage against the dying of the light! Lead, kindly light, amid the encircling gloom, lead thou me on. The night is dark and I am far from home, lead thou me on. Arise, shine, for thy light has come. Light is knowledge, light is life, light is light.

-Northern Exposure

New Year's Resolution:

My resolution for 2015 is to only dread one day at a time.