Handshakes, Obsolescence and to Die Dreaming

¡Hola! Everybody…
I was going to write about the lack of leadership, depth, direction and substance coming from the right these days. I mean, really: they’re making a fuss about Obama shaking Hugo Chavez’s hand?!! We’re no longer a super power! The armies of Ctico will overrun the South Bronx and civilization as we know it will know cease to exist! LOL

Perhaps the repugs forgot about this:

Or this?

Also please note that neither Saddam (who would use US-furnished mustard gas on his own people shortly after the above photo-op with Rumsfeld) and gorbachev were democratically elected, as Chavez is…

FWIW, I hope Obama reads the book, The Open Veins of Latin America, Chavez gave him; it’s one of the most powerful history books I have ever written. It’s also written by an internationally respected and award-winning journalist, Eduardo Galeano. In any case, I awoke a little late, so all I cab offer is the following…

* * *

-=[ To Die Dreaming…]=-

[As I noted earlier, I awoke late today and didn’t get a chance to write something new, but I always liked this snippet. It’s from a short story I wrote a while back… ]

… The thought of her beauty awakens me sometimes, from the middle of dreams I can’t remember. It’s not the image of her face, the softness of her skin, but just the sudden awareness of her total beauty — that first strike before any of the details become clear — that jolts me awake and leaves me longing on the broken shoals of my bed.

For just a moment, I’m upset she’s not here with me, but then the anger subsides into longing, and I stand and pace, haunting the darkness of my room, thinking of possibilities. Gradually, I come to the awareness that there’s no reason for anger, only choices. I ponder all this for what seems like hours and it’s the thought of her beauty that makes me lie back on my bed, weighing me down so that I plummet through the thin fabric of wake and sleep and drown in the middle of dreams I don’t remember…




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