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Welcome to my world. My world is what I make it, as is everyone else's. As I am more generous than most, I will let you leave your mark and influence upon it... as long as it is without malice or intended harm. I offer sanctuary for those in need, and advice for those who know how to ask and are willing to listen. Do not taint my paradise. Tread softly and open your mind to what I have to say, for while I rarely say what I mean, I usually say what I mean.
For the most part, Hurricane Charley has come and gone. From my point of view, it was an incredible let down. Oh, and i decided to go to the party and tell work to go to hell, I'm not driving in that. Anyways, the storm consisted of a little rain and some gusts of wind. The residual storms that passed through this morning actually had lightning and thunder, not to mention a whole lot more rain than what was experienced last night. The phone actually went out this morning. But this does nothing to change the fact that where the hurricane did come ashore it reaped havoc. There were about 60 casualties last time I heard, and somewhere around a few million in damages. FEMA is already on the job. Right now, the storm has been downgraded to a tropical depression and is currently offshore the US between North and South Carolina.
In other news, I was inspired last night (but what I don't know) and wrote a poem. "Hurricane Party" was written on August 13, 2004, around 11:30pm. It is entirely in iambic tetrameter. Here you go...
The rain pounds against the windowpane,
And I feel totally at ease here.
The wind assails the trees and leaves stain,
And I take another liquored drink.
Tea-colored clouds hang on stilted houses,
And I am completely pleasant here.
We are told to get far, far away,
So let the communal glasses clink.
The storm stirs the sheep to mass panic;
With monsters I am mellowed here.
The ground is soaked and my steps puddle;
The only fear I have is to blink.
The tranquil music drives me to life,
And there's nothing that can break me here.
A faucet makes this monsoon look small,
And I am nowhere near that bleak brink.
The storm has gone without much to see,
But I'm still glad I showed up here.
The show is done; the curtain has fall'n;
Unbroke, I reach for another drink.
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