standup philosopher

One of the blogs I read shared a poem from an Irish guy; a memory of his childhood, which he wrote after spending an adult Christmas alone in his Dublin flat. And I'm sitting here, alone on Christmas. And it sounds dramatic and sad. But it's not. I've politely turned down multiple invitations for last night and today. I'm loved and remembered. I'm lying here thinking about my Christmas childhood memories. I think of bright, warm homes set against the cold and dark outside. I hear the laug...

From Psalm 38: 13  I am like the deaf, who cannot hear,     like the mute, who cannot speak; 14  I have become like one who does not hear,     whose mouth can offer no reply. 15  Lord, I wait for you;     you will answer, Lord my God. 16  For I said, “Do not let them gloat     or exalt themselves over me when my feet slip.” 17  For I am about to fall,     and my pain is ever with me. 18  I confess my iniquity;     I am troubled by my sin. Reading and reflecting on this, i thought of the days ...