I'm gonna need more wood.

I have to agree with the Pastrami Llama.
I'm not a Debbie downer, I believe what I see.
Why am I going to waste my life away searching for what is not there?

I don't read much......or read any at all.
I can't say I know anything about poetry or literature.
All I know is that the few things I've read, written by John Donne, have some truth to them.
He lived, loved and lost and was the kind of realist person I consider myself to be.
Just don't call me a pessimist, because the differences are great.

I will continue to restart and feed the fire because I realize that I cannot stop the winds or rainstorms.

When that elixir is found, then you have my attention.

 Love's Alchemy

 -John Donne
Some that have deeper digg'd love's mine than I,

Say, where his centric happiness doth lie;
I have lov'd, and got, and told,
But should I love, get, tell, till I were old,
I should not find that hidden mystery.
Oh, 'tis imposture all!
And as no chemic yet th'elixir got,
But glorifies his pregnant pot
If by the way to him befall
Some odoriferous thing, or medicinal,
So, lovers dream a rich and long delight,
But get a winter-seeming summer's night.



Our ease, our thrift, our honour, and our day,
Shall we for this vain bubble's shadow pay?
Ends love in this, that my man
Can be as happy'as I can, if he can
Endure the short scorn of a bridegroom's play?
That loving wretch that swears
'Tis not the bodies marry, but the minds,
Which he in her angelic finds,
Would swear as justly that he hears,
In that day's rude hoarse minstrelsy, the spheres.
Hope not for mind in women; at their best
Sweetness and wit, they'are but mummy, possess'd.