The more the world falls apart, the more precious my corner of paradise feels. I suppose I could feel guilty. I'm good at that.
Utopia was a concept that always felt right to me. I was naive to the extent that I never considered that it was all fantasy. I signed up for a college course, Idea of Utopia, that I assumed was going to give me the skills to start one or a map to find one. Turned out to be a literature course. I learned a little something of other clueless dreamers who stared out windows and prayed for peace.
Since then I've been exposed to the music business, worked for the government, and talked folks out of buying things that I was paid to sell. All I've missed, I suppose, is the military and the pulpit. I have my limits.
While I never threw in the towel, after this amount of time, I had given up any realistic hope of moving right into some place that I would consider a paradise. I'm used to hearing the folks in Key West tell me, "Oh you should have been here before the Navy," or friends who have gone now declare, "I wish you could have seen Davis Islands before the storm."
As usual for me, it's too late for bad luck. I've got my girls and I stumbled into paradise.
Give us peace on earth and end this dreadful, dreadful war.
Excellent as always
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