Where there is only pleasure.

Sometimes my lovely and charming Italian true love thinks of her job as work. I tell her that’s wrong. She’s a teacher. Of English and English literature. And every moment should be pleasure. Of course, it isn’t. But hey, I’m a romantic idealist. A dreamer and lover, too. Therefore, I try to push life to the limits. Don’t always succeed. But I’m always pushing. Closer and closer to the ideal. I even manage to fool myself.  Into thinking that success is around the corner.  Maybe it will all be achieved when I become spirit. In a realm where love of life abounds. Where there is no work. Only pleasure. –Jim Broede