s.wordthruheart

   Time moves backwards, and the end is known from the beginning. *** In a Gilmore Girls alternate universe, Lorelai and Chris are together. They've stayed together, and are raising their only child, Rory, a precocious, starry-eyed, well-intentioned teenager living in the same small New England town, brilliant at school if she applied herself. Very rich, she feels the effects of a peculiar isolation and, having effortlessly mastered the studies required of her, immerses herself in unorthodox ones. Still liberal by vice of being a product of her time as we all are, but perhaps in a less dogmatically centrist way, Rory was early on raised a Christian by her grandparents but has now branched into other systems of belief, finding the doctrines of the church unsatisfactory to explain the world as it unfolds around her. She has a thought, and it soon materializes. The townsfolk are animated by her moves, and seem to slowly spin around her as if pulled in by the gravity of her na...

  It's about men.  Men and their hopeless situation.  The only 'good', sane man is Marge's husband, who paints stamps while his police chief wife solves a triple homicide, confronts the coldest killer face to face while seven months pregnant, and pieces together the puzzle as easily as if she were reading the script. He's the only man in the film who loves his wife, and in turn he has a burgeoning family, and is sane and normal in this world surrounded by senseless murder. Even his name is Norm. He's the norm, the ideal. But he paints stamps that are worth .03$, brings his wife lunch and dabs her cheek. Even at the end he doesn't mention the murders. He's unaware of those realities. He talks about stamps. He's also balding, even though his (not very young) wife is about to give new life. Jerry doesn't love his wife or even remember that he has a son. The money is  mostly irrelevant to explaining his motivations. He's in want of less ...

The clown king was coming in hot, all bedecked with props, but nobody seemed to care. He just wanted a coffee. His eye paused on a glum girl who was dark  and light but had no life - much as had passed through her took it all. She sat alone in the corner nearly mumbling her thoughts, outside the stream of sex, for it is pay to play and she was broke. She needs me, he thought. He had no idea of her long shame, nor how one thing after another had gone awry this morning before she got to the cafe and sat down in her usual seat via a stubborn and self-imposed rhythm. Just the sight of her lost in her cloud of dark thoughts, talking to no one, was very comical in his state. But also very sad, as he learned that her visage was gelling into that of a regular, an eccentric sitting daily in a corner scribbling away something barely legible except to her like her life depended on it (it did). He sympathized. He could be a sad clown. He had just been a sad clown this morning, but now he was ...

I'm not an astrologer and in casual horoscope lookup the meanings of the 12 houses had always seemed arbitrary to me until recently when I went back and looked up the meanings again. I had some thoughts which are certainly not unique or revelatory but to me personally; nevertheless I'm writing them down for the sake of phrasing them as I thought them. What occurred to me was a pattern between the houses and the meanings of the numbers that govern them, in reality. That is, the numbers have apparent fixed meanings we can see in our manifest existence, particularly 1-6 (or even only 1-3). I think of the astrological houses now rather as the movement of energy, with houses being nodes or stoppers, or rather the planetary bodies being stoppers that get in the way of the free movement of energy as the laws of Creation flow down like a waterfall (not unlike the stopping points of musical notes). These stoppers, this system, then acts as a latticework or governing framework over our l...

 Time moves backwards, and the end is known from the beginning. *** In a Gilmore Girls alternate universe, Lorelai and Chris are together. They've stayed together, and are raising their only child, Rory, a precocious, starry-eyed, well-intentioned teenager living in the same small New England town, brilliant at school if she applied herself. Very rich, she feels the effects of a peculiar isolation and, having effortlessly mastered the studies required of her, immerses herself in unorthodox ones. Still liberal by vice of being a product of her time as we all are, but perhaps in a less dogmatically centrist way, Rory was early on raised a Christian by her grandparents but has now branched into other systems of belief, finding the doctrines of the church unsatisfactory to explain the world as it unfolds around her. She has a thought, and it soon materializes. The townsfolk are animated by her moves, and seem to slowly spin around her as if pulled in by the gravity of her narrative...