Sunday, November 13, 2016

Leonard Cohen died yestderday

Chloride isn't giving me the essential nourishment that I need. So I scribble and write and hope to be productive and writing strong stuff.

Here, there is no Chelsea Hotel, but that isn't a good way of saying good bye to a place that has once nourished my soul. I seem not to find the free associations, or ironic language, the message strongly blending the self and introspection and the near profane, near liturgy of writing. Here near the ROUTE 66 I go on - but inspiration has been slow and low.

Here I live of the gift of friendship of many people here, the glimpses of their lives and the insight it provides. The good and the not so good and the courage to search out new shores or mountains. I see it in Nadine, in Coop and Irene and so I become a passenger of lives.

Sometimes I like life to be a bit more simple, without it becoming a boring life. So I'll be wearing just a little blue raincoat in the darkness of Leonard Cohen:

Fairwell Leonard Cohen
It is darker now!

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