tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13347380782295695772024-03-20T02:28:03.794-07:00Falling Away From FateA mind trapped within itself...Duke of the Arctichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15134872536353292003noreply@blogger.comBlogger348125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334738078229569577.post-84315884310104439222014-10-12T09:54:00.001-07:002014-10-12T09:54:22.628-07:00TO KNOW MADNESS<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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To accept the reality </div>
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of our Creator </div>
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is to know madness. </div>
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One sees not only a single future, </div>
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but understands the possible outcomes </div>
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of all futures at once. </div>
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Madness discovers patterns </div>
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that others fail to see, </div>
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and in time learn to overlay</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>the pieces of chaos
until harmony</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>is discovered. </div>
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Madness also possesses </div>
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an unspoken hunger for knowledge</div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and wisdom that is
never satisfied.</div>
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There is no submission to mortality, </div>
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only a want of unlimited existence; </div>
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the desire to become one with all that is. </div>
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The mind mantled in madness </div>
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processes faster than the body can react.</div>
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Thoughts are experienced, </div>
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not individually, </div>
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but in clusters with </div>
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a multitude of emotions </div>
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bleeding into and out </div>
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of each of those thoughts. </div>
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All things are one. </div>
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The understanding </div>
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of this is madness; a salve </div>
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against the wounds of the limitations </div>
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accepted by dominance of humanity. </div>
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Once this is realized and accepted, </div>
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madness becomes genius. </div>
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No boundaries to what one can do. </div>
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Conformity is no longer </div>
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a part of the equation of existence. </div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New"; font-size: 10.0pt;">©
Feb 6, 2013 ~ DBC, Duke of the Arctic</span></div>
Duke of the Arctichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15134872536353292003noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334738078229569577.post-88763904895012051922014-09-13T15:01:00.004-07:002014-09-17T06:01:51.081-07:00Dream on...All too often we forget those moments that define serenity. I was
reminded this morning by an incident that mirrored such a moment. Last
week, I was out driving after a long day. I found an old country road
canopied by trees. The evening breeze rattled some of the leaves loose
and they did their lazy dance to rest with their kinsmen, ready to be
scurried along to the nearby creek and carried to a final resting spot. <br />
<br />
Aerosmith softly carried my thoughts to all literature pertaining to
life, the forest, and magic. Robin Hood, Merlin, Arthur, The Faerie Queen, John
Muir, Walden, Athos, Porthos and Aramis were all dancing in my head.
Each leaf represented a thought from another that shaped my literary
life. <br />
<br />
Peace attained, if only for that moment. And it just re-occurred. Dream on...<br />
<br />
<a href="http://youtu.be/89dGC8de0CA">http://youtu.be/89dGC8de0CA</a> Duke of the Arctichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15134872536353292003noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334738078229569577.post-89858763036968989362014-09-04T20:06:00.004-07:002014-09-04T20:07:32.733-07:00Good evening... I am tired. Ready to pass out. Aren't we all? Whether a
domestic goddess or a laboring slave to the grind, we all feel the same
weary when Luna calls us to rest or become. We are each a genius in our
own right. And through that genius, there are some that reach madness.
When the subject consumes the student...wisdom is found and intellect
dismissed. Today, it appears, they refer to one attaining
"enlightenment" as a individual psychosis It does not matter what we
"are," it matters who we "become." Let us find our own inner peace and
relax. Don't loose a wing. Persevere...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Duke of the Arctichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15134872536353292003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334738078229569577.post-82094289833741108222014-08-24T21:08:00.000-07:002014-10-12T11:17:55.576-07:00It is not far...What would one find down this path?<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
Would taught fear overtake us in minutes and terrors appear? Or would we
find peace and touch magic again? Should we evolve? We have been subjugated by
the Elite. They try to manipulate the temporal change. Even now, my mind seems
dazed to speak against the loss of freedom. But we must all shake the trance
and live without fears. Do not riot...relax...Let's walk and find the presence
of peace. It is not far...<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
© August 24, 2014 ~ DBC, Duke of the Arctic</div>
<br />
<br />Duke of the Arctichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15134872536353292003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334738078229569577.post-21361386221377068062014-08-24T20:45:00.001-07:002014-08-24T20:58:04.632-07:00Shall we find such peace? There are times when one hears a few things shuffle in the closet. Not
necessarily the one in the corporeal corner, a bit deeper. Far beyond
mental and into the light of spiritual. Was it as simple as two wooden
hangers under the same spell as the candle, rattling bones; or perhaps
the chains that keeps one from regaining wings? The mind finds that
single forgotten moment of terror; the one more lost for the struggle of
sanity than the classes of society. It is always there. Awaiting a
thought. Then it beings to burn like a wild fire. We have all faced a
fears or terror. Now we are late in existence. Perhaps annihilated. We
must forget not share with others so that they might find a new depth to
madness. Do we really wish others to add to their burden? If we set
aside ego and proceed to progress, we than chance a moment to evolve.
Self-controlled madness is more challenging than an 8 hour chess match
listening to Wagner’s ‘Ride of the Valkyries.”Duke of the Arctichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15134872536353292003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334738078229569577.post-72074131478551381112014-08-21T19:27:00.001-07:002014-08-23T17:31:50.055-07:00My Love<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">Love
is my strongest asset, but my greatest liability. From this day forward,
I shall confine it to paper. My desire will bleed from my quill, my
boundless emotions will fill my inkwells, and my imagination will create
the moments that should have been... </span><br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"></span><br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><br /> ~ Duke of the Arctic 8/21/2014</span><br />
<br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span data-reactid=".d9.1:3:1:$comment945702135445153_946124068736293:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:0"></span><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".d9.1:3:1:$comment945702135445153_946124068736293:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".d9.1:3:1:$comment945702135445153_946124068736293:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".d9.1:3:1:$comment945702135445153_946124068736293:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$0:0">I
am glad it was not real. If it had been, I would still be soaring. Once
aloft on wings of enchantment, the world is left behind, lessened,
diminished, and at times forgotten. I lost myself in the cathedral of
her soul. I was higher than any mortal intoxicant could offer. I touched
the 'neath side of heaven's floor. Then she was gone and I fell back to
the rocky, yet beautiful estate of reality.</span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".d9.1:3:1:$comment945702135445153_946124068736293:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".d9.1:3:1:$comment945702135445153_946124068736293:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".d9.1:3:1:$comment945702135445153_946124068736293:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$0:0"> </span></span></span></span><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">~ Duke of the Arctic 8/21/2014</span><br />
<br />
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".d9.1:3:1:$comment945702135445153_946124068736293:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".d9.1:3:1:$comment945702135445153_946124068736293:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".d9.1:3:1:$comment945702135445153_946124068736293:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$0:0"> </span></span></span> </span>Duke of the Arctichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15134872536353292003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334738078229569577.post-88424735776504080362014-08-11T20:39:00.000-07:002014-08-11T20:39:06.850-07:00R.I.P. Sir Robin Williams<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".2d.1:3:1:$comment10152620336247082_10152620423377082:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".2d.1:3:1:$comment10152620336247082_10152620423377082:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".2d.1:3:1:$comment10152620336247082_10152620423377082:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$0:0">Laughter will fall short of the endless echo, and smiles will not be so carefree.</span><br data-reactid=".2d.1:3:1:$comment10152620336247082_10152620423377082:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$1:0" /><span data-reactid=".2d.1:3:1:$comment10152620336247082_10152620423377082:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$2:0">Peering through the looking glass has lost the comical distortions.</span><br data-reactid=".2d.1:3:1:$comment10152620336247082_10152620423377082:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$3:0" /><span data-reactid=".2d.1:3:1:$comment10152620336247082_10152620423377082:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$4:0">Life has sharp teeth again. </span><br data-reactid=".2d.1:3:1:$comment10152620336247082_10152620423377082:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$5:0" /><span data-reactid=".2d.1:3:1:$comment10152620336247082_10152620423377082:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$6:0">Thank you Robin for offering the natural painkiller called humor. I was truly addicted. You shall be missed.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".2d.1:3:1:$comment10152620336247082_10152620423377082:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".2d.1:3:1:$comment10152620336247082_10152620423377082:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".2d.1:3:1:$comment10152620336247082_10152620423377082:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$6:0">NOTE: photo is random internet find. </span></span></span><br />
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".2d.1:3:1:$comment10152620336247082_10152620423377082:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".2d.1:3:1:$comment10152620336247082_10152620423377082:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".2d.1:3:1:$comment10152620336247082_10152620423377082:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$6:0"></span></span></span><br />
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Duke of the Arctichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15134872536353292003noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334738078229569577.post-31746155722020031732014-08-10T20:54:00.004-07:002014-08-10T20:54:42.845-07:00Namaste<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Duke of the Arctichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15134872536353292003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334738078229569577.post-87889708732742904502014-07-27T08:21:00.000-07:002014-07-27T08:21:11.668-07:00Happy 12th Birthday Byron Alexander CohnBlood or not, you are my son. I miss you. I love you. There is not a day that goes by that I do not think of you and wish we were together, but I dare not dwell on that thought or madness will take me to places I wish not to be. I truly understand the constant battle to suppress rage. Dr Bruce Banner has become my study focus. Meditation keeps the Hulk chained deep in my being.<br />
Be safe and take care of your mother, I once truly loved her. <br />
Duke of the Arctichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15134872536353292003noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334738078229569577.post-41402544959712305172014-07-13T21:28:00.000-07:002014-07-18T05:14:15.384-07:00Has My Magic Diminished?<br />
<br />{{{flash}}}<br />
<br />
I remember adding my magic to the world and enchanting it, as a child. I
bought something in a bag for 25 cents. Looked like glitter, but was
promised magic. <br />
<br />
{{{believing}}}<br />
<br />
Later, on that typical hot evening under the endless skies of Texas, I watched the fireflies...entranced.<br />
<br />
{{{awe}}}<br />
<br />
I remembered the pouch. I leaned against a tree and chanted my wish, “I
seek the language to unite with hope. Belief is reason. One day the Fae
will return. I will remember, always. I will enchant the world for
peace, everlasting…” <br />
<br />
{{{prayer}}} <br />
<br />
I blew the contents into the breeze. Each metallic mote of color was brought to life with fire by the fading sun. <br />
<br />
{{{shimmer}}}<br />
<br />
I witnessed magic. It has always been with me, but never joined the
game. I thought it mocked me and left. I failed to realize the
significance of experience when on a road to redemption. Humbleness and
awe are what makes magic. We are here to share our gift and experience
the contributions of others to this existence. <br />
<br />
{{{bowing}}}<br />
<br />
NOTE: Photo was an unexpected internet find. I hope someone can
identify the photo artist. Perhaps more photos could invoke further
memories. The worldly corruption of faith and honor have numbed by mind
and I forget the magic. I am getting old...but still believe...<br />
<br />
July 13, 2014 ~ DBC, Duke of the Arctic<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje6aSziJY2U3CtHKVwX5linSR8RAQin1rfRh5yMYV4-ObGBLUdOLqZWxipX-P-CfpApmXU3iWBK8ntJ1ydq9L5V19-utjpkShySe2FDvuVvjHqyN8tVemC-XyqGtQ5y-bsWgJCDRQS/s1600/1001537_447999271963934_170563301_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje6aSziJY2U3CtHKVwX5linSR8RAQin1rfRh5yMYV4-ObGBLUdOLqZWxipX-P-CfpApmXU3iWBK8ntJ1ydq9L5V19-utjpkShySe2FDvuVvjHqyN8tVemC-XyqGtQ5y-bsWgJCDRQS/s1600/1001537_447999271963934_170563301_n.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
NOTE: Photo was an unexpected internet find. I hope someone can
identify the photo artist. Perhaps more photos could invoke further
memories. The worldly corruption of faith and honor have numbed by mind
and I forget the magic some days. I am getting old...but still
believe...there are moments...memories...<br />
<br />
July 13, 2014 ~ DBC, Duke of the ArcticDuke of the Arctichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15134872536353292003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334738078229569577.post-46913631141157145422014-07-12T13:45:00.003-07:002014-07-12T13:45:47.804-07:00Back to reality...or my perception thereof...Occasionally, I visit Craigslist to get a laugh. This post had my native imagination running "hog" wild. I envisioned half drunk rednecks with chainsaws chasing down wild pigs. I actually went to the tool shed to check the working condition of my chainsaw. As I read the post, I realized that the gent needed someone to cut up fallen trees in exchange to hunt. My medieval mind was arrested and cast to the dungeons of reality. No such luck to hunt a wild bore with a screaming chainsaw. Oh well...back to reality...or my perception thereof...<br />
<br />
http://austin.craigslist.org/lbg/4541345261.html<br />
<h2 class="postingtitle">
Use your chainsaw to hunt game on a ranch (South Austin)
</h2>
Duke of the Arctichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15134872536353292003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334738078229569577.post-55786153964000053652014-07-01T20:02:00.005-07:002014-07-01T20:02:53.384-07:00Happy Birthday, America?<br /><span class="userContent">I am saddened by the fact that in 3 days our
country will rally to celebrate a freedom that is no longer ours. We
gather to eat, drink and be merry to commemorate our winning a freedom
from a tyrannical monarchy<span class="text_exposed_show">. Through the
years our government has slowly and stealthily morphed into the beast we
so fear that we uprooted ourselves from our mother countries and
pressed the natives of this beautiful country into small reservations. <br />
We know that there is a legal beast lurking behind every corner. It has
devoured the elegant Lady Justice and left the taste of blood and fear
on the tongues of the masses.<br /> Many have become so afraid of falling
prey to the powers that be that they cheer when another is taken. They
wipe their brow and sigh, “I have lived to run another day.” So many
are terrified of the government that should fear the people. What have
we done, other than turn our backs on ourselves and our children? Why
should we live in fear? Why should we allow our leaders to constantly
divide us by instigated racial tension? All politicians have the same
desires, they just label them Democrat or Republican to divide and
conquer the masses. I have witnessed it for 40+ years and have
discovered it exists through the history of man. They say history
repeats itself. That is because we never learn the lesson! It is time to
stop the tyrants and return to our roots. Protect your families,
respect your friends, be true to your morals, never give up your guns
and guard your freedoms!</span></span><br />
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Duke of the Arctichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15134872536353292003noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334738078229569577.post-31787436306838960862014-06-15T23:06:00.001-07:002014-06-15T23:17:25.347-07:00Father's Day 2014There is nothing like a midnight drive, through the hill country, on
the back roads. Dire Straits weaving in and out of hearing range as the
wind screams into the open Jeep. Luna plays peek-a-boo through the
blanketed veil of clouds and draws my memories back to the time when I
was ensconced in love.<br />
I smile for a moment, and then I realize
how I have suppressed years of being forlorn. The cold emptiness starts
to creep in. Mem’ries of what used to be slowly slither up my spine and
hisssssssss into my thoughts. “You are nothing.”<br />
The man, who once
wondered what true love really was, remembers the day he met the woman
that touched his soul, the Muse that extracted the stopper from the
inkwell of his lyrical heart. She was the one that gave him wings. The
soldier that feared nothing recalls breaking down in tears and becoming
mortal the day his son looked at him and said, “Daddy, I love you.” The
joy of having a son!<br />
Then the darkness settles in. The beauty
becomes a beast and clips his wings. The venom from her tongue paralyzes
like a scorpion’s whip! He cries out into the night, "Oh, <span>Prometheus</span>, gladly would I suffer the eagle as to this. Cast me to your chains and you submit to my agonies."<br />
<span> </span>The
wind suddenly becomes a roaring beast, flapping mighty wings that stir
the cold breath of eternal solitude. The moon, the watchful eye of the
past, ever so slowly, blinks in and out of the clouds like the burning
gaze of a blank stare. <span> </span>Harmonic whispers from the radio, fade and return like taunting kisses from a love gone astray. <br />
I have, once again, felt the cold embrace of madness. Where is Morpheus? Oh eternal sleep, let me rest and forget.<br />
<br />
June 16, 2014 ~ DBC, Duke of the ArcticDuke of the Arctichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15134872536353292003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334738078229569577.post-11487654557496411292014-06-03T21:22:00.001-07:002014-06-04T18:52:46.573-07:00Acacia Park, Colorado Springs, CO 1988The year was 1988. The place, Colorado Springs, Colorado. Acacia Park, <span class="st">115 E. Platte Ave, </span>to be exact. There was a strange electricity in the air. I worked at the 29<span class="st">¢ Hamburger Stand across the street from the park. I got to meet many amazing people. There was a certain madness in most of them.</span><br />
<span class="st">A beautiful girl named Carrie was one such person. I thought she was Lita Ford when I first saw her. We became friends and shared many good times. Mostly under skies of amber rain. She used to peel the labels from her Budweiser bottles and give them to me. "Keep these safe Don. One day you can trade them in for kisses." She moved to California, or so I heard, long before I could cash them in. That and the fact that she was dating a friend of mine, Tony, left the "cashing in" just a casual thought. Tony was quite the character. Long haired pretty boy. Used his looks and charm to dole out the empty promises to every pretty girl that walked by. He worked his charisma like a smooth oiled machine. He would say, "Watch this, Don. I'll bet I get a kiss." Every time. The girls fell for his sob story e~v~e~r~y time. "My girlfriend died. I miss her so." They stepped in to offer hugs and kisses. SMH!</span><br />
<span class="st">Then there was Robyn. The 6" tall blonde that surely had ancestors from the lost tribes of the Amazon. She twisted her ankle and I carried her to my friend's truck. We got her the the hospital and got her took care of. She fell in love with my friend. I think they are still married. Good guys finish last.</span><br />
<span class="st">Then there was Shadow and Crystal. They were never apart. If you wanted Crystal, look for Shadow. Wherever Shadow was, Crystal was close. And then there was Shadow's right-hand man, Bill. Big Bad Bill! Big ol bruiser. Sucker punched me once, from the side, and I just turned and grinned at him. It hurt like hell, but I refused to let him see it. He never grew aggressive around me or my friends again. Lied on me and it came back to bite him in the bum.</span><br />
<span class="st">Ah! And how can I forget the beautiful young lady with yellow eyes! She batted them at me few times and we flirted, but nothing ever came of it. </span><br />
<span class="st">My roommate/boss' name was Chris Baer. Cool cat! Stayed up one night drinking til 4am. We were promised the next day off. We knocked of a bottle of Everclear, a ton of brewskies, and other liquor. The area manager called us at 4:30 and told us we had to work. Ha! We ran to the store and bought 2 boxes of NoDoz. We each ate a box and went to work. It was a long day. After sleep, he introduced me to one of his friends. OMGoodness! She was beautiful. Her name was Mary. She was a manager at an "3.2" bar. We went dancing one night and then had a stroll under the moon and chatted. I was nervous. I was still new to the game. Had only dated 2 girls before her. Time and distance took its toll. I have always wondered...</span><br />
<span class="st">There are so many more. </span><br />
<span class="st">Where are they now?</span><br />
<br />
<span class="st">NOTE: photo is a random internet find</span><br />
<span class="st"></span><br />
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<span class="st"><br /></span>Duke of the Arctichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15134872536353292003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334738078229569577.post-33794701915555729342014-02-22T19:33:00.000-08:002014-07-12T13:46:20.556-07:00Daily thoughts<span class="userContent"><span class="text_exposed_show">Don't get me
wrong. I have friends from every ethnic group, country, faith, gender,
and sexual preference known to man (and perhaps a few not yet known).
And I care for each of them. But I am not understanding all the
hell-raising going on in Arizona over some claiming religious rights.
Does this mean I can sue a Muslim that refuses to sell pork in his
store? Does this mean I can sue Protestant church for not using the
Koran? Does that mean I can sue the Black Panther movement for not
allowing me admittance to a rally? Does that mean I can sue my neighbor
for not sharing his wife? All these examples are based on beliefs. Why
have beliefs at all if they are to be trampled at the whim of a few
political puppets?<br /> I remember the 70s very well. No one flaunted a
label and everyone was friendly. WTH happened? We all embraced a label
and stuck it on our egos and pushed our chest out to promote our
egotistical way of living. I have walked through Harlem unmolested and
unscathed, but if I walk through those streets with a "white pride"
shirt on, I won't make it 2 blocks. Be yourself and quit promoting your
ego! I don't care about your way of life as long as you don't try to
push it on me. Being different is what makes us human.<br /> All this crap
is just the government stirring up derision and hate amongst the
masses. This will make it much easier for them to institute their police
state. Wake up and smell the sheep fodder. Walk away from the madness!</span></span>Duke of the Arctichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15134872536353292003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334738078229569577.post-61137691302984099262014-02-21T16:06:00.003-08:002014-02-21T16:06:43.510-08:00~TRANSFORMATION~<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I awoke with a start </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
and realized how rich I truly am. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My coffers are filled </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
with love and hope.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My friends are my jewels and gold. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve no need for trivial sparkles </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
that perish as quick as the sun sets. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am still a man among men </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
and a king in my little room. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I dance between memories </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
with rabbits and ducks </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
and give them life</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
and they offer more love </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
than my queen </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
ever mustered up for show. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I now realize…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I never had what it took</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
to be a king </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
until I lost my kingdom.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
© Nov 16, 2013 ~ DBC, Duke of the Arctic</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
NOTE: photo is random internet find </div>
<br />
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Duke of the Arctichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15134872536353292003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334738078229569577.post-54951048940685656282014-02-18T19:21:00.003-08:002014-02-18T19:21:31.655-08:00I Offer Life to the Words of Poetics<div>
<h2 class="_5clb">
<br /></h2>
</div>
<div class="mts _50f8">
<span class="timelineUnitContainer"></span></div>
As night falls<br />
I offer temptation<br />
To those not easily taken<br />
Draw closer<br />
Into the shadows<br />
Let me prove the depth of…<br />
<br />
…life…<br />
<br />
This evening…I…<br />
Am the instrument<br />
of creation<br />
The giver of wings<br />
The whisperer of…<br />
<br />
…words…<br />
<br />
The darkness<br />
Settles in… I…<br />
Reach for your soul.<br />
Submit to my longings<br />
Let me take you away<br />
I offer the caress of…<br />
<br />
…poetics…<br />
<br />
© Dec 9, 2013 ~ DBC, Duke of the ArcticDuke of the Arctichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15134872536353292003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334738078229569577.post-49169263656797693162014-02-16T20:17:00.000-08:002014-02-16T20:17:03.341-08:00when I dieWhen I cross over,<br />
I do not want any of you<br />
to visit my grave.<br />
I won't be there.<br />
I will be alive<br />
in the books you read,<br />
riding the wind<br />
that causes your hair to stir,<br />
dancing in the flame<br />
upon your candles,<br />
living within the song<br />
that brings back yesteryear.<br />
Do not cry for me.<br />
Celebrate my new beginning.<br />
The caterpillar is gone,<br />
the cocoon is empty,<br />
the butterfly is free.<br />
Look for me in the fields of flowers,<br />
listen for my whispers in the wind.<br />
Do not miss me.<br />
I will be with you<br />
always... <br />
Look in your heart for that is where I will reside.Duke of the Arctichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15134872536353292003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334738078229569577.post-67393068815037796432014-02-11T07:10:00.000-08:002014-02-18T16:01:30.058-08:00Daily thoughtsYes, I write of love and the awe I have for the most amazing gift our Creator gave to mankind, the woman. Without the woman, there could not be life. Life manifested beauty from the essence of woman. <br />
Many have inspired pieces from me, but the love and whispers are from a time long past. I am not extracting the splinters from the flesh of beauty, I am focusing on the fragments of beauty left on the tree.<br />
Some say my writing invokes flirtatious behavior. Many say I play with hearts. Bah! So, I must clear the air of these matters. The only skin my hands will ever caress, from this day forward, is that of parchment. The only body my hands will hold in dance is that of my quill. The only love my heart will embrace is that of literature. The only blood I will ever spill is the ink in my well. The physical world means little to me any more. Yes, the body is a nice playground, but the soul is the cathedral I seek to wander.<br />
My intention is not to capture your heart, because I might break it with one of my many inequities. I want none of you to feel the cold, dark emptiness of solitude...even if but for a moment. It is most hollow. My desire is to touch your soul with the wisdom and magic that have graced my life. To teach and to learn. No matter your action, reaction, or lack there of, I learn from each of you. Silence is as much of an instructor as endless conversation. <br />
With all that being said, let us move into the future as one hope and one love of restoring harmony to our planet. Namaste.<br />
<br />
NOTE: photo is a random internet find<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKFegJsO6W2JDl8cCZAImFeXfZce7ngV6TqcsVhKBHqVsGcHZ9oB5HC4aF_OnhJX-D0DEBu4SkEScBVPNDc75cXTguGqM44l8x6yN7KurVx9PNdXPuBQKuVognyryaZdecnpGGRJpG/s1600/karta-putovanja-duse.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKFegJsO6W2JDl8cCZAImFeXfZce7ngV6TqcsVhKBHqVsGcHZ9oB5HC4aF_OnhJX-D0DEBu4SkEScBVPNDc75cXTguGqM44l8x6yN7KurVx9PNdXPuBQKuVognyryaZdecnpGGRJpG/s1600/karta-putovanja-duse.png" height="256" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Duke of the Arctichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15134872536353292003noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334738078229569577.post-12846123301167931682014-02-08T15:14:00.000-08:002014-02-08T15:14:40.484-08:00I miss you...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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There were good days and bad. I will remember both. I will always cherish to good times. The bad times just make the good days seem a bit more sweet. No one will ever erase the memories of you. No one will ever replace you. We were the perfect match. I regret that you failed to see this. I am sorry I could not destroy your demons, but I was busy fighting mine. I find inspiration in all things, but the beauty that guides my hand is the memory of you. Through all the damnation you cast upon me, I focused on the angel you once were. That is how I choose to remember you. The pain I have come to bear numbs the searing emptiness. It will never end. I add my cries of loneliness to the howling winds. Hear me. My tears are now one with the rains. Feel me once again as I slide down your cheek. I miss you...<br />
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© Feb 8, 2014 ~ DBC, Duke of the Arctic</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw9wAIgE6HIHHgSsUuLHmIgEsAoXKQvPj0FC7OSjZBDyVchBNR9L7b7IZhvKzO_I_ElygEODBaGYe00BzY6R8B-iwN14UdvEgWw1VgrCRzo9-DBREG_Na7BsNJbNVhsq0DwkHrQ_Dk/s1600/1467286_226941714140932_2130170587_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw9wAIgE6HIHHgSsUuLHmIgEsAoXKQvPj0FC7OSjZBDyVchBNR9L7b7IZhvKzO_I_ElygEODBaGYe00BzY6R8B-iwN14UdvEgWw1VgrCRzo9-DBREG_Na7BsNJbNVhsq0DwkHrQ_Dk/s1600/1467286_226941714140932_2130170587_n.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a><br />
NOTE: Photo is random internet findDuke of the Arctichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15134872536353292003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334738078229569577.post-66655253173962321412014-02-06T11:12:00.001-08:002014-02-06T11:12:22.154-08:00MY MARY IN LACE<div>
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Without form the mist falls<br />
embracing memories from the halls<br />
caressing this night of trees<br />
setting to dance the ball room of leaves<br />
wind songs offering whispered phantoms<br />
answers to life’s unspoken questions<br />
Sol and Luna never to know<br />
<br />
The darkness and fires that burn within,<br />
each morn, leave dew<br />
on the conversation<br />
between old gods and new.<br />
Smooth the edges of the broken pieces<br />
of the chalice of mankind.<br />
<br />
As I sit in sorrow<br />
pondering what could be<br />
in the stead of what was,<br />
Luna beams through the darkness of dreams.<br />
It is here that my Mary appears in lace.<br />
What lovely features has she;<br />
shadows of ebony adorn ivory skin<br />
like love etched with caressing kisses.<br />
My apparition comes close.<br />
<br />
I long to reach out,<br />
but Percy’s words are adrift<br />
quelling the fires of passion.<br />
Desire will hide in the rain<br />
and fall to the earth to find shelter<br />
and flow to the seas of madness.<br />
<br />
Oh Mary, Oh Mary<br />
your Byron seeks not to destroy<br />
only to gaze upon your beauty<br />
to write of love’s sweet joy.<br />
Attend me in lace<br />
as my quill will dance<br />
to attest the existence<br />
of your gentle grace.<br />
<br />
Concept: Nov 11, 2013<br />
Completion © Feb 6,<span> </span>2014 ~ DBC, Duke of the Arctic<br />
<br />
NOTE: my thoughts on what George Gordon might have written for Mary Wollstonecraft.</div>
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Duke of the Arctichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15134872536353292003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334738078229569577.post-59939881312583328672014-01-29T21:00:00.003-08:002014-01-29T21:00:44.022-08:00COME TO ME<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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Does my invitation frighten you?</div>
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It should not.</div>
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Love is not a token of light</div>
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but a world within darkness…</div>
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Shhhh…..</div>
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As I shut out the world,</div>
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Allow me the heavenly gift of unsculpting you…</div>
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Let me trace your essence…</div>
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Let me find you without sight…</div>
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Close your eyes and feel…</div>
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My whispers, like the Autumnal winds that tease your hair…</div>
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My touch, the loving hand of the Creator…</div>
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My love, like the gentle wisps of fog that caress the
valley…</div>
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My kisses, like a butterfly, find sweetness wherever you
exist…</div>
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The darkness is now filled with the luminous awe of
innocence.</div>
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What have we found?</div>
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Is it enough? </div>
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No. Not for ever…</div>
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but yes, in the moment</div>
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We are complete…</div>
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Do not think…</div>
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…just listen…</div>
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…feel…</div>
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…love…</div>
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My quill will bleed memories of this moment.</div>
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All will know of you…</div>
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© Jan 29, 2014 ~ DBC, Duke of the Arctic</div>
Duke of the Arctichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15134872536353292003noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334738078229569577.post-25742201437583508052014-01-02T20:00:00.005-08:002014-01-02T20:00:49.967-08:00Please remove my letters from your numbers?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg8nqOpv9vszeHOx3cz-5_ZmYwD8xgeJ97UwJAiJWUQLpGlGA3OxGOtFWuBdSojEG3iR22-1Q80wqsOctXfZ82H_ifQvcWl4jq7GNAOZY-9C4Md5O72oqMejFUR8T3gW-pMfg0bEXO/s1600/1505117_801300273218674_1389608432_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg8nqOpv9vszeHOx3cz-5_ZmYwD8xgeJ97UwJAiJWUQLpGlGA3OxGOtFWuBdSojEG3iR22-1Q80wqsOctXfZ82H_ifQvcWl4jq7GNAOZY-9C4Md5O72oqMejFUR8T3gW-pMfg0bEXO/s320/1505117_801300273218674_1389608432_n.jpg" width="320" /></a> </div>
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<span>I
was cool with math until they started trying to make it a mystery
novel by adding my beautiful alphabetic characters. When my professor
ask me what the function of "x" was. I told him it was the end-mark of
"fox, box, and chicken-pox." It<span> is also the bookends of "Xerox,"
and "Xanax." Is the starting point for "X-ray" and "Xylophone." And the
midpoint of "axe" and "Sixer." He was not as amused as was the class.
Needless to say, "I failed math, but aced literature."</span></span><br />
<br />
<span><span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span><span> You've mixed my letters</span></span><br />
<span><span> into your soup of numbers</span></span><br />
<span><span> I believe that qualifies</span></span><br />
<span><span> as a literary blunder.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span><span></span></span><br />
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<span><span> The only line affected</span></span><br />
<span><span> by the function of "x" or "y"</span></span><br />
<span><span> Is the spelling of my word</span></span><br />
<span><span> not a dot on a line.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span><span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span><span> Please take your numbers</span></span><br />
<span><span> that flow not together</span></span><br />
<span><span> Leave my elegant letters</span></span><br />
<span><span> to form and dance forever.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span><span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span><span> 1 + 1 = 2</span></span><br />
<span><span> That will always be the rule.</span></span><br />
<span><span> Any that claims the contrary</span></span><br />
<span><span> I might label a fool.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span><span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span><span> How dare you ever say,</span></span><br />
<span><span> "1 + 1 = B."</span></span><br />
<span><span> How can you mix the beauty</span></span><br />
<span><span> of letters with crude numerology?</span></span><br />
<br />
<span><span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span><span> © Jan 2, 2014 ~ DBC, Duke of the Arctic</span></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span><span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span><span> NOTE: photo a random internet find and words just a prod of jest toward math.</span></span>Duke of the Arctichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15134872536353292003noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334738078229569577.post-33950524354264143772014-01-02T07:45:00.002-08:002014-01-02T09:28:02.437-08:00enough to carry meThe older I get the more cynical my views on being "in" love. It is
an intoxication for the young; like alcohol. The buzz fades in time, yet
we continue the chase until we rest beneath the daisies. The
butterflies migrate from the body and return to the ether. Emptiness is
left as the fragrance is bled from the blossom. All things wither and
die. Love, life, and the pursuit of happiness. The memories are there.
That is enough to carry me through the rest of my days.<br />
<br />
I
pine for the youthful vigor of love. But have outrun its reach. Now I
wander into the fields of Autumn and dream. I am in love with the idea
of being in love. That is enough to carry me through the rest of my
days.<br />
<br />
I remember the fall. Catching her. Seeing her
smile. The rise. Regaining and maintaining altitude from the magic that
her essence found in me. Watching the awe bleed from her eyes as we
soared the upon the winds of peace, between the mountains of pain and
into the valley of peace. It was there that I first glimpsed the shadow
of darkness within her beauty. The doubt of purity. The jealousy of my
faith and belief in love. She did not understand that I was teaching her
to fly. As I turned to search the past, I felt her clip my wings. She
failed to realize that love was not a destination, but a journey. She
stranded us both. Forever lost. She wandered into the night and left me
alone. My love in and of itself was not enough for the two of us. Now I
await the mountains to crumble and fill this chasm of emptiness. Her
memory will keep me alive and in torment until that final day. That is
enough to carry me through the rest of my days.<br />
<br />
© Jan 2, 2014 ~ DBC, Duke of the ArcticDuke of the Arctichttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15134872536353292003noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1334738078229569577.post-74012979967157658492013-12-31T17:26:00.000-08:002013-12-31T17:26:51.614-08:00Happy New Year!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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