Sit and be still
until in the time
of no rain you hear
beneath the dry wind's
commotion in the trees
the sound of flowing
water among the rocks,
a stream unheard before,
and you are where
breathing is prayer.
The Child sees mystery everywhere. Maturity is a narrowing of the imagination. Within each of us is the child we once were; this child within is the foundation upon which we build who we are and what we will become.
The Noir City is a mysterious labyrinth of smoky bars, lounges and nightclubs, blind alleys, abandoned factories, shadowy train platforms, fog-filled parks, austere detective agencies and darkened gambling dens. An ominous urban maze where it's always night and it always rains.
"The human animal is a beast that must die.
If he's got money, he buys and buys and buys
everything he can, in the crazy hope that
one of those things will be life-everlasting,
which it can never be." —Big Daddy Pollitt
"It's too bad she won't live!
But then again, who does?" —Gaff
"You don't need anybody
Nobody needs you
Don't cry, old man, don't cry
Everybody dies." —Randy Newman
Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
Fritter and waste the hours in an offhand way
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way
Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain
And you are young and life is long and there is time to kill today
And then one day you find ten years have got behind you
No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun
And you run and you run to catch up with the sun, but it's sinking
Racing around to come up behind you again
The sun is the same in a relative way, but you're older
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death
Every year is getting shorter, never seem to find the time
Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines
Hanging on quiet desperation is the English way
The time is gone, the song is over, thought I'd something more to say
“Imagine a puddle waking up one morning and thinking, 'This is an interesting world I find myself in -- an interesting hole I find myself in -- fits me rather neatly, doesn't it? In fact it fits me staggeringly well, must have been made to have me in it!' This is such a powerful idea that as the sun rises in the sky and the air heats up and as, gradually, the puddle gets smaller and smaller, it's still frantically hanging on to the notion that everything's going to be alright, because this world was meant to have him in it, was built to have him in it...so the moment he disappears catches him rather by surprise.” ~Douglas Adams