There isn't a single moment that the flower fails to bloom.

Otis Reding's White Christmas

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bBUEriRD1ek

Me: Rainbow, you look blue.
Rainbow: I look blue because I am blue.
Me: Yes, I see that you are sad. I don’t like seeing you so.
Rainbow: No, I meant that I am blue. Can’t you see that I have no other hues, but blue. My blueness leaves me blue. It approaches the ridiculous, I know. It’s embarrassing. A rainbow is by definition imbued with many wonderful colors.
Me: Oh, I think I see now. Well, I would not fret. Blue is truly a beautiful color on you. Still, I can see why you would like to manifest all of your colors. Be that as it may, blue Rainbow. Why are you blue, Rainbow?
Rainbow: She is not so charming as you paint her.
Me: She? Where did that come from? Who Is She? Well, anyway…Pray tell, blue Rainbow. Why do you appear to be blue?
Rainbow: Appear Blue? I am blue. It is because She smiles and the Sun pauses to reflect.
Me: Reflects? The Sun stops to think?
Rainbow: Hardly. It stops to reflect its rays upon her just-so She can hold her close to Her…and be warmed by her and warm her back. Then, I’ve witnessed that those near enough to her too are graced by her unique light and warm music.
Me: That doesn’t sound too awful? But, I’m sure it gets worse.
Rainbow: It does. When she dances Oranges of many and varied hues – some I’d never even known to occur, celebrate wildly and join in too. When she gets moved by passions, then even ecstatic reds become her. I can accept the other colors becoming her. But, in fact, even red becomes her. It’s just not fair.
Me: Is that bad? You know, I think I see a hint of green in you all of a sudden. I don’t know if that is good or bad. You aren’t green with envy, are you?
Rainbow: I’m not done! That may not be that bad viewed in isolation. But, one has to look at the whole picture. Listen to this. Suns set with regularity, in order that she may glimmer in other-worldly pinks and resplendent violets.
Me: Oh, I see. Forgive me, but don’t suns tend to set? It doesn’t sound like something she has done to you. Hey, I think I see a little red in your cheeks. Please don’t be angry over something beyond your control.
Rainbow: Well, when she feels down and wishes for something else, I know grasses and leaves who would happily sacrifice themselves for her - to see that she may live in their suns and daughters’ greener pastures.
Me: This doesn’t sound so bad - I daresay it’s almost charming, actually.
Rainbow: Uchhh. Charming? I’m just ecstatic for her. Can you see that it leaves me nothing but blue? Does she have to horde more than the whole visible spectrum? I’ve seen colors flow to and from her even beyond those in me! Thus, am I a blue Rainbow. Who has even heard of a blue rainbow. Have you? It’s a contradiction. It’s ludicrous!
Me: Are you sure that it is she that deprives you of your rainbow, Rainbow? After all, your essence consists of many beautiful colors. How could another deprive you of that? I saw them within her - maybe, not even all of them. More of the same hues, but also ever more vibrant ones, manifesting all the time - especially when she shows resolve. She has done marvelous and brave things before; will she not do more and braver things still? She has more hues, I think, than you or I have been allowed to see. Perhaps, more even, than she yet conceives. And, whenever she lets her will and self flow, her infinite colors truly always will become her. Even when she is unbecoming do they become her - as they are her, and she, they. May that she be(come) what she is. Rainbow…I think I see some more colors in you even now.

Is there Free Will?

Flowers bloom in the proper soil, under the right conditions...with sunlight, warmth, water, and love.... Is anything any different? And, first, you have to be a flower if you are to have a chance of blooming.

Facts are Facts, Buster

Someone just has nice hair...and, it would look nice no matter what - even if it ALL fell off!

Pardon My Language, but Some People f**ing P_ss me Off

No one couldn't give a flying fuck about Anyone. No one doesn't give a shit about Anyone. No one doesn't want to take care of Anyone. No one cares for Someone.

If

If I was allowed on Some-one's blog, I would tell her that what she wrote was pretty cute and funny.  And, more enjoyable than reading Adalgisa Nery or Alfonso Romano de Sant'Anna...in English translation at least.

But, No-one isn't supposed to comment on Somone's blog.  So, No-one isn't telling Someone anything.  

No-one gives a fuck...I must call mummy and daddy tomorrow; how mad I now am at them.  They told me all this time my name was R___.  My name must really be No-one.  No-one gives a flying fuck.

And, God may or may not give a shit…I can’t get inside his mind. 

But, I can get inside of mine. And, I give a shit.  Actually, 2 shits.