Friday, February 10, 2006
When I imagine bliss, a state of perfect happiness, I think of two things – the first is a direct quote from an email I just sent Jake: it gave me the idea for the post.
1) “I'm wiping away a sentimental tear imagining being in a convertible when Louie Louie by the Kingsmen comes on the radio: I turn it up; then up some more: I sing along, at the top of my voice: it is the greatest moment of my life.”
2) I am at the beach. There is no one around. I am in a car. I get out, and I take a golf club from the boot. I climb onto the roof of the car. The sun is setting into the sea. I place a ball on the surface of the roof. I swing the club and the ball arcs slowly into the water. I take another ball from my pocket and I do it again: it is the greatest moment of my life.
But I hate cars.
And golf.
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1) “I'm wiping away a sentimental tear imagining being in a convertible when Louie Louie by the Kingsmen comes on the radio: I turn it up; then up some more: I sing along, at the top of my voice: it is the greatest moment of my life.”
2) I am at the beach. There is no one around. I am in a car. I get out, and I take a golf club from the boot. I climb onto the roof of the car. The sun is setting into the sea. I place a ball on the surface of the roof. I swing the club and the ball arcs slowly into the water. I take another ball from my pocket and I do it again: it is the greatest moment of my life.
But I hate cars.
And golf.
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