Moro Bay and the last light out in the house , is Angie's study .
She'd boil her brains writing all evening long, she had a book out already
and was into her second , in a way a Bull takes after a Matador .
My feet cleared up , no longer stunk , I guess my assassination ceased to exist .
We took the loft of an Old House high on the Hill , far enough away from
the sounds of the town , as to lend us peace .
six foot by 5 foot bay window facing West and the Sea , Sunsets
are another addiction for me , this window was my evening T.V.
for those .
quiet , sunny , breezing site , perfect , and cheap too , since a lady friend of mine
owned it at the time , and could use me for repairs and
""""""Last light in the house to go out"""""""" ,
Title to the Book Angie was working on .
Premise was simple , Focused on the terminal thoughts of dying people ,
and their words as those passed through their minds .
We fail to get full details out of the dying during their last words , for in
moments they are gone .
That leaves to wonder what they may have been seeing in their
minds at they're final moments ,, and by course ,,, we are left with
no answers to those mysteries .
Sad to think that so many go beyond , leaving their loved ones to wonder
that for years to come .
I was there the moment my Mother passed , her last words for hours ,
were moans , for she was so medicated with Thorazine , she couldn't speak
for her last few days .
Fitting as it was , for most of her life had been painful .
Still , I would have liked to get her final perspective of her life here ,
even if she said nothing more to say about it then SH!T ! at the end .
Last light out in the house , is exactly how I view it ,
the final epiphany , the final rush of wisdom , the final evaluation of
a person's life as they set it aside to venture on .
Last light , as they exit the room we call our bodies , and this plane
we call this World .
I've had more goodbyes than I've ever said as I left places I've stayed ,
perhaps my passing out of here will also happen without my saying
goodbye to anyone , I'd like to believe so , for goodbyes obviously
annoy me enough to avoid them in life , why not at death ?
Placebos work I suppose , however the real thing cannot be
replaced by them ,,,
and my life to me has been like a Placebo instead of real .
as though an act , masked , and play acting out a part not my own .
Scripted , that's my life , author unknown for now , but if I had to guess ,
I'd say whoever wrote my script , sure was a sardonic butthole .
Yes I know , I sound pessimistic enough , yet I like to say
that I'm just pragmatic is all .
Last Words ,,, we can hear from them , but I'd love to see the scenes
they see in their minds eye , that the words generated from .