Walt...old buddy, as an admirer of Camus, as well, I'm not sure you've fully digested his philosophy.
I hope you and your family are as well as can be. And your first question was a rhetorical one...of course you should keep writing....you've still got it.
T. Byrne...3/17/25
An Irishman walks out of a bar..........it could happen.
Between those you believe in/ and those you never will/ between Sisyphus and that damned hill/ between what's holy and what's obscene/ the Hemingway novel/ and that gossip magazine/ between Tylenol and crystal meth/ your first and very last breath/ between standing tall and finding that wall/ for leaning/ between mystery and meaning/ the morning mist and the evening star/ in between it all/ that is where you are.
Between church bells/ and those old guitar licks/ the porn star and her crucifix/ that sudden diagnosis/ and that lonely empty bed/ the life you dreamed of living/ and the life you've lived instead/ between the next town and the kitchen wall/ your fervent belief/ and feeling nothing at all/ between the beautiful face/ and that facial scar/ in between it all/ is where you are.
Between the dots and the dashes/ what ascends and what crashes/ your wife and her hot flashes/ between who I am/ and who I say I am/ on Tiktok and Istagram/ between my biology/ and all this technology/ well, by now you know what I mean/ when someone asks you where you are/ tell them your in between/ the ruptured earth/ and the melting sky/ between these words I've written/ and the ones that could have been written by A I.
Between those you believe in/ and those you never will/ between Sisyphus and that damned hill/ between what's holy and what's obscene/ the Hemingway novel/ and that gossip magazine/ between Tylenol and crystal meth/ your first and very last breath/ between standing tall and finding that wall/ for leaning/ between mystery and meaning/ the morning mist and the evening star/ in between it all/ that is where you are.
Between church bells/ and those old guitar licks/ the porn star and her crucifix/ that sudden diagnosis/ and that lonely empty bed/ the life you dreamed of living/ and the life you've lived instead/ between the next town and the kitchen wall/ your fervent belief/ and feeling nothing at all/ between the beautiful face/ and that facial scar/ in between it all/ is where you are.
Between the dots and the dashes/ what ascends and what crashes/ your wife and her hot flashes/ between who I am/ and who I say I am/ on Tiktok and Istagram/ between my biology/ and all this technology/ well, by now you know what I mean/ when someone asks you where you are/ tell them your in between/ the ruptured earth/ and the melting sky/ between these words I've written/ and the ones that could have been written by A I.
Walt...old buddy, as an admirer of Camus, as well, I'm not sure you've fully digested his philosophy.
I hope you and your family are as well as can be. And your first question was a rhetorical one...of course you should keep writing....you've still got it.
T. Byrne...3/17/25
An Irishman walks out of a bar..........it could happen.
For Walt-
" The Best of Rhymes, The Worst of Rhymes"
- t. byrne
Between those you believe in/ and those you never will/ between Sisyphus and that damned hill/ between what's holy and what's obscene/ the Hemingway novel/ and that gossip magazine/ between Tylenol and crystal meth/ your first and very last breath/ between standing tall and finding that wall/ for leaning/ between mystery and meaning/ the morning mist and the evening star/ in between it all/ that is where you are.
Between church bells/ and those old guitar licks/ the porn star and her crucifix/ that sudden diagnosis/ and that lonely empty bed/ the life you dreamed of living/ and the life you've lived instead/ between the next town and the kitchen wall/ your fervent belief/ and feeling nothing at all/ between the beautiful face/ and that facial scar/ in between it all/ is where you are.
Between the dots and the dashes/ what ascends and what crashes/ your wife and her hot flashes/ between who I am/ and who I say I am/ on Tiktok and Istagram/ between my biology/ and all this technology/ well, by now you know what I mean/ when someone asks you where you are/ tell them your in between/ the ruptured earth/ and the melting sky/ between these words I've written/ and the ones that could have been written by A I.
For Walt-
" The Best of Rhymes, The Worst of Rhymes"
- t. byrne
Between those you believe in/ and those you never will/ between Sisyphus and that damned hill/ between what's holy and what's obscene/ the Hemingway novel/ and that gossip magazine/ between Tylenol and crystal meth/ your first and very last breath/ between standing tall and finding that wall/ for leaning/ between mystery and meaning/ the morning mist and the evening star/ in between it all/ that is where you are.
Between church bells/ and those old guitar licks/ the porn star and her crucifix/ that sudden diagnosis/ and that lonely empty bed/ the life you dreamed of living/ and the life you've lived instead/ between the next town and the kitchen wall/ your fervent belief/ and feeling nothing at all/ between the beautiful face/ and that facial scar/ in between it all/ is where you are.
Between the dots and the dashes/ what ascends and what crashes/ your wife and her hot flashes/ between who I am/ and who I say I am/ on Tiktok and Istagram/ between my biology/ and all this technology/ well, by now you know what I mean/ when someone asks you where you are/ tell them your in between/ the ruptured earth/ and the melting sky/ between these words I've written/ and the ones that could have been written by A I.
Thanks for these two columns- from a fellow early redhead. Terrific meditation on our oddities.