The Dead of Winter

 Patience runs out on the junkie
The dark side hires another soul
Did he steal his fate or earn it
Was he force-fed, did he learn it
Whatever happened to his precious self control

Like him I'm tired of trying to heal
This tom-cat heart with which I'm blessed
Is destruction loving's twin
Must I choose to lose or win
Maybe when my turn comes I will have guessed

These are the horns of the dilemma
What truth is proof against all lies
When sacred fails before profane
The wisest man is deemed insane
Even the purest of romantics compromise
  
And so I wrestle with the angel
To see who'll reap the seeds I sow
Am I the driver or the driven
Will I be damned to be forgiven
Is there anybody e ea here who needs to know but me?

From "Victim or the Crime" by Geritt Graham and Robert Weir

 Introspection or just like riddles? Well one thing is fo' sure, winter is a time when too much thinkin' can occur. For those of you who are freezing, literally, our condolences, but where ever you've chosen to live these months, with temperatures that make bouncin' outta bed in the morning that much more difficult, when the long dark hours make life seem even more obscure, and it makes the creekin' of your aging bones almost audible are not among the best, it's still home. Sure, some of you like speeding over frozen water, our Nipponese brothers use the Northern Lights as an excuse to mate (do those women really fall for THAT?) and others of you, like Brother Fishface Greeley swear that it feels so good when it stops, but I ain't buyin' any o' that. Maybe it's like those bad days of fishing, they just make us appreciate the good days that much more (Oh Damn, I'm startin' to sound like BFG!), or maybe that's just my own bullshit to get it over with. We've had northern wind almost continually this winter. Temps have been cold, for us, and hot chocolate has replaced the ice water in front of the idiot box at night. "Get over it!" you say, and you're right, let's look on the brighter side- with all of this wind the yellowtail are but a few short weeks away, each day will be a little longer than yesterday, we don't have to scrape ice of the pangas, I'm still wearing sandals, HEY, it ain't all that bad, and it's getting better.Take that you nattering nabobs of negativism (remember that?), put THAT in your pipe and smoke it, and use that to warm your hands. It'll be over soon.
David