Finish it, or keep it going.
I’ll start it.
Sisyphus (earth), Jack & Jill (water), and The Little Engine That Could (wind & fire) are at the bottom of a hill.
[Finish it, or keep it going.]
What has love to do with any of it? The little boy says when he can maybe never ever become a real boy?
“Ain’t talkin ‘bout love, Jack,” Jill retorted.
“My name is not Jack. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. My name is Pinocchio. I’m made out of wood.”
“That would explain why you want to be a real boy, Pinocchio,” Jill observed. “If I was made out of wood, I wouldn’t like it very much.”
“The thing I like least about it is that I don’t feel like a real boy,” Jack replied.
“Well, I wouldn’t know anything about that,” said Jill.
“You’re not missing much,” snorted Sisyphus as he pushed a large boulder up the hill, passing Jack and Jill.
[Finish it, or keep it going…]
Must take a break for the irony that getting to Hiroshima on Christmas Day is not only discerning but proves ahead a rocky road so please bear,
dreaming of happy dogs between efforts to get back to sleep discouncerning
Keep it going.
Pinocchio was put out by Jill’s over the top comment about being made of wood, and he thought vow, now I kind of figure what’s this is about.
Should I go on, further with this charade , that may or may not be the beginnings of a budding love? A girl who can’t see beneath the woodwork may just as well grow cold soon enough , and then how do I know this is the real thing once we get to second base?
She probably has no inkling…(As the huffing and puffing is heard coming up the trail, he stops thinking, suppresses his emotions, and becomes the little boy again bound for Kyoto, on the way to Hiroshima , on Christmas Day.
)(
At this point the synapsis could very well reduce to a simple quizlet, with sysiphus laboring up with great effort, an effort easily dismissed by hurling epithets such as gees you don’t really have to do this little bit, Jill really loves him, you silly dyssuphus, you are not doing this for a chunk of wood.
What are you getting out of this anyway?
Sissy doesen’t answer , in fact he is breathless, and dismisses such ingnoble inquiry as nothing by a faked interest, for the sake of the audience.
The audience is not really overly y enthusiastic about this whole show, and premature hisses can be heard animating from the recessed area of the totally darkened theater.
So the fact that by this time, little boy , is sissy, is becoming beyond obvious, as the bullet train afarxawayvfrom the Monday’s blues Tokyo far far left behind in the timeless space of the land of the risen son, coincidentally a man nearby of no special description absorbed in the sun, also rising somewhere else, maybe a place he has never been, longs to here, hurtling ever so fast toward a never ending horizon in that land at the end of sunsets where reality never stops spinning into new scenes, the green grassed manicured villas arching into the blue sea merging into the fainter gentle aqua of it’s skybound reflection
Go little boy, go west, you’ll be young man, there, the ranches and the beef steering away from the darkening green to brown patches that are torn off and strain the warning browns of the hissing tumble weeds, when smokestacks and burning hay signaled the coming of another phase of life.
Still a little boy, heading west, a nothing no man who landed here, for a purpose, miraculous for sure, cause too many incidents pairing into coinciances, no illusions left except to go on with this as long as?
The little boy exploded many years ago, sure to feel the inheritance of original sin, relatively speaking, for a sensitive feels things, and that is how triangles formed which drew a picture drawing in the spirit of weltschmertz of angst in an eygenblick.
The responsibility atoning for?
The mystical law of Sakamuni through Nichiren. Previewed through Khrisnamurti in the eighties when learning of Asia and it’s mysteries.
Today going to Osaka for the day, the usual tourist spots, and maybe lunch somewhere, weather is very cold thank god for the warm coat I bought back in LA,
Narrator: This is a picture book. Pictures with today’s newspaper in it, not photoshopped, with Osaka in the background.
How come you’re just in the stations?
How about some elevator music for that round-trip ticket?
My son says why the urgency to see Hiroshima and so on and so on, and I go like why your obsessive n to see cup of noodles, Toyota and so on, he says can you tell me? , and I go you tell me first say I give up, because it’s for your own good that I can’t tell you other than you can infer.
‘magic’ was the code name for the xxxxxxx
In the National Security Archive related to the bombing of Hiroshima , dropped from a Boeing Superffortress beginning August 5 through August 6, 1944after ‘fat man was dropped on Nagasaki, and the wrangling and failed negotiations between Emperor Hirohito’s stance and that absolute resolve of the army general not to surrender at any cost, ultimately causing the later’s suicide.
)) ((
**Document 73: “Magic” – Diplomatic Summary, War Department, Office of Assistant Chief of Staff, G-2, No. 1236 – August 13, 1945, Top Secret Ultra
Told him, my son don’t asked me you won’t believe it even if you do you know nothing ( of Hiroshima)
()
Reflecting to the film Hiroshima mon amour when the Japanese guy says to the French actress. (Loosely) ‘you know nothing of Hiroshima”)
[the recourse> to source> to sleep>to dream> or? hallucinate> too many coincidences<magic<miracle< Nichiren<sakhamuni<(sensitivity to light)<