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Once upon a time, there lived a little girl. More than anything in the whole wide world, this little girl wanted to be loved. She searched many, many foreign places for love. She kissed many toads for love. She loved and she loved and she loved. The more she loved, the harder it became. Her tiny little heart was fading. Layers and layers of molten skin were binding her. Finally, the little girl exploded. She began lashing out at everything and everyone in sight. Bolts of lightning were striking all she touched and did not touch. She began to spin out of control. As she spun, rings and rings were spinning off of her painting the earth. Many colors began flying throughout the air. Suddenly, she was naked. She looked into the water and there, she found her love. Now, to find the prince…

Thursday, December 18, 2008

Hookah



Celebrating still my birthday. I think I was born at 10:34 p.m. Not really sure. I called my mom this morning and thanked her for having me. She replied, "my pleasure". Oh yea, Mom, that pain, that labor was certainly your pleasure. Yet, having 3 children of my own, it certainly is a mother's pleasure.

After a marvelous, what a word for my vocabulary, anyway, it was a magical day for me, receiving many gifts, all unexpected. When I finally arrived home, there was the annual birthday call from my sister on my answering machine. "Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, you look like a monkey and you act like one too!". My sister. We fought like cats and dogs as kids. Today, it is much more in a mature way which we fight. All love. I called her back to tell her, "I still don't look like a monkey". Her reply, simply, "yes, you do". Ok. Her daughter got on the phone. She told he she has been reading my blog. Oh my! Let's see. What have I written??? Yet, Linsi, 21 years old, said to me, "I didn't know who you were, now I do, and I love you even more". So, yes, stories of a grim past are good. They show why a person is the way they are. With no condemnation.

Back to the "hookah". I told my sister I bought a house gift, the "hookah". No reply. After a little bit of conversation, I explained to her daughter and to my sister, "we don't smoke pot nor tobacco out of the hooka". "We smoke molasses tobacco. It is an herbal fruit. Tonight, the very first time we smoked out of it, it was "watermelon"." No tobacco, no tar, no nicotine. So why do we smoke at all? Don't know. I read about the "hookah" from India. Yes, I have a very dear friend from India. It is about how they smoke out of the hookah as an act of peace. So much violence, hatred in the world, yet, to smoke out of the hookah, you can only go there out of a symbol of peace. Peace pipe. Cherokee tusti bowl? A place of love. A place of acceptance in a world of ???? Not sure what this world is of...but my world, yes, a world of love, a world of peace, a world of acceptance...hard to come by, yet, have a celebration and yes it definitely does come!!!

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