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Jack_42
Over 90 days ago
Straight Male, 83
0 miles · Prague
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As music is the biggest part of my life I felt I should see this ''greatest rock star'' who I've never heard of. I was greeted by some guy mumbling and then shouting incoherent lyrics over a sort of disco type beat I think the song (for want of a better word) was called Black Skinhead or it may have been referring to the gentleman himself as he was black with a shaven skull. With talent like his no wonder he's an avid attention seeker.
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Go for it. There may be a reason for her delayed action. If nothing positive happens you have only wasted a small amount of time and you have nothing to lose. If there is no response then you can shrug it off - but if you leave it you will always wonder. Also she may be thinking the same thing ''Why hasn't he contacted me?''
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This wouldn't mean too much to me; at my age time is the most valuable asset so I would pay off all my family's debts, keep enough to give me an income of 16,000 pounds a year for 20 years and then donate the rest to organizations creating local industries in 3rd world countries.
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Quote by MsTribI thought it was from a drug induced dream.
Of course, it's where Simuel Taylor Coleridge got his idea for Kubla Khan
Kubla Khan Related Poem Content Details
BY SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE
Or, a vision in a dream. A Fragment.
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.
So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round;
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.
But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!
A savage place! as holy and enchanted
As e’er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon-lover!
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced:
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher’s flail:
And mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean;
And ’mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war!
The shadow of the dome of pleasure
Floated midway on the waves;
Where was heard the mingled measure
From the fountain and the caves.
It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!
A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw:
It was an Abyssinian maid
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me
Her symphony and song,
To such a deep delight ’twould win me,
That with music loud and long,
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome! those caves of ice!
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.
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I only met my father 3 times during my life. Once when I was four - the day he left and then I got curious when I had kids of my own so I traced him - after not seeing or having any contact with him for 40 years. We arranged a meeting and when we did I met my other siblings from his second marriage. I took my then family to meet them all. I do not regret this and my mother accepted this as a perfectly natural thing to do despite it being of some discomfort to her and the other members of her family. It wasn't an accusation of both of my parents neglect - my father's for showing no interest in me and hers for not encouraging communication but just a very strong curiosity about it all. These were their actions and I was not judgemental but the bottom line is they would have had the responsibility for this and the onus was not on me just as your situation was not created by you. If your mother has any strength of character I'm sure she will understand without any surreptitious notes under pillows but a frank open discussion face to face.
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Sniztel leftovers from last night's Crimbo party the Czechs have a special day where the kids meet St Nicholas, (a religious Santa figure) an angel and a devil who grill them about their behaviour the good ones get a goody bag, (nobody ever confesses to bad behaviour).
