From: Jacqueline Cioffa <firstname.lastname@example.org> Subject: jelly beans and bed sheets Date: April 10, 2007 7:39:59 AM EDT To: Jacqueline Cioffa <email@example.com> I wrote Jellybeans and Bed Sheets some time ago. Time didn’t pause for me but the memories I still own. Jellybeans and Bed Sheets by Jacqueline Cioffa Miami, the beach sand sun moon and stars. There is something about being in a tropical place, how the wind blows just right sweeping
I am no different. I am so very different from before. reflect. Oddities of a world, in free fall. Every thing is change. The Vast Landscape. Perspective. Flux. Gotta keep up. So they say. Who are they? Tinnitus. Hush now. Walking away. Different.
I like to fix things, the fixer am I. Without a toolbox filled with talisman, memory and crazy glue, the fixing proves difficult. A house is built with cement, nails, wood, copper and steel. A home is adjoining parts, veins, bones and good intention, feeding the heart. The most perfect, precise pump ever made, says the master journeyman, and my ancestor. Impossible to understand, at times impossible to fix.
today is a three-part kind of day I know. I used to see Phillip Seymour Hoffman in the Village, head-down, unassuming posture. The year was 1995, I was studying acting and a mega fan. My brother saw him on the subway, asked for his autograph for me. He graciously signed a pack of matches, he was kind. Addiction, Mental Illness are merely misfirings, faulty wiring in the brain, that cannot be