NRia’s Notes #2
September 19th 2013
Open note to Selena Fox:
It has been quite a while since I have heard from you and hope you are doing well. Foxes do not forget those they meet, unless they forget them. So that I remember you, means you have not completely forgotten me. So in the spirit of spirits. I will drink to your good health.
On the subject of Small Blessings:
If a blessing is small, does it become more valuable? Would a microscopic blessing be worth the world then? Does size really matter when it comes to blessings? Would a small blessing at high speed hurt? What is the terminal velocity of a small blessing? If you clap your hands, would a small blessing flicker back to life? What is the unladen airspeed of a small blessing? How much wood could a small blessing chuck, if a small blessing could chuck wood? Does it have to do anything to be a small blessing at all? If two small blessings collided would they produce anything? Would a small blessing blend? If a small blessing sat in my lap, would it, could it purr? Yes, a small blessing would do, could do a great many things. It however, has no sway with me.
On the subject of Pride:
What is a man without pride? What is broken when nothing is left? What is that which will outlast bone and sinew? What will not yield on broken wings? Who knows scorn like someone who has achieved? To take, make, break and make anew? To sleep, does one dream of glory? What is pride without a man? Is a magician proud because he is certain, or because he is right? Is there always another mountain to climb? Another new height to reach? A world apart to strive for? To make a new world? Is not everything just another test? Till an ice cold respite upon a snow cold slab? Is this a choice or a new test we must hold in question?
On the subject of Play:
A platonic platoon of purring, purple penguins. Pleasantly playing percussion while peeping pheasants plague a plundered pirate playpen. Perhaps play is plighted by perplexing peas? Perhaps the less said on the subject of play the better, but persuasion is as precise as a pneumatic pistol. Pounding proudly upon a pack of plastic planes. Surprised that nothing seems as played out as a gaggle of pounding, perplexed Pigeons. Pet peeves of a plainly perverted persona of a playing party of players.
On the subject of Gems:
Pretty, polished baubles all in a row. Set them aside and watch them glow. Pretty, polished baubles all in a row. Turn them away and watch them grow. Quietly creeping, never sleeping, slowly sweeping empires away. Sneaking, creeping, sleeping baubles. Glowing, growing, sweeping baubles. Can you hear them in your sleep. Can you feel them slowly creep. See them glowing, feel them growing, hear them whisper. Collect them all. Fear them all. They rule all.
Closure of NRia’s Notes #2.
