The musings, laughter, anguish, and tears of a Stickman living the life drawn for him by the Artist. "I must learn to serve the Artist first, His pen directs my path. He breathes life into these worn-out sticks, And stickmen will see at last."

About Me

Poor. Student. Firefighter. EMT. Kind. Optimistic. Shy. Dreamer. Fool. Happy.

4.24.2006

Irish Music

I'm sorry that I've lost you -

It makes me sad that when I think of you,
I wince and close my eyes.

I'm sorry that you're forever gone.


When they play the final song and the stage is finally cleared, I will still feel those last few unplayed notes. My ears will remember the movement that ended so abruptly and strain against the buzzing silence, desperate to find a more satisfactory conclusion.

Sixty days in front of a hundred thousand, here we go! Tap-dancing through bar floors, river dancing on bar tops, finding our rythms among the beating of hearts. Click your heels, snap your fingers (like this!) - just join me.

I've found my soul dancing through a green place called Ireland. You are there too, and it's lovely to know that, if only in Ireland, we are still friends.