As the fireman said: Don't book a room over the fifth floor in any hotel in New York. They have ladders that will reach further but no one will climb them. As the New York Times said: The elevator always seeks out the floor of the fire and automatically opens and won't shut. These are the warnings that you must forget if you're climbing out of yourself. If you're going to smash into the sky.
Many times I've gone past the fifth floor, cranking upward, but only once have I gone all the way up. Sixtieth floor: small plants and swans bending into their grave. Floor two hundred: mountains with the patience of a cat, silence wearing its sneakers. Floor five hundred: messages and letters centuries old, birds to drink, a kitchen of clouds. Floor six thousand: the stars, skeletons on fire, their arms singing. And a key, a very large key, that opens something — some useful door — somewhere — up there.
Disclaimers: 1. Formalities: This is a personal web-log. The opinions and information provided on this page are the sole responsibility of the author. These opinions do not represent the official statements or views of his employer, nor do they represent the views of any institution, corporation, or other organization. This blog and all its contents, in each of its parts and as a whole are copyright David Knowles, Jr., 2009. 2. Frivolities: This is a personal web-log. I'm relearning some HTML. Something not working? Shout out. Idea for improvement? Please provide. Surging, irresistible need to confess your undying love for the Dave? You may proceed.
"If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world."