All things are possible.

The most astounding thing I’ve ever experienced. Is me. I’m persuaded about that. Beyond a doubt. The fact. That I’m here. On Planet Earth. Alive and conscious. Along with billions of other beings. It’s fantastic. Almost unbelievable.  I keep asking myself. How can this be? I never dreamt it could happen. Until it happened. Started becoming aware of my existence. Some 80 years ago. Maybe all I’m catching. Is a brief glimpse of precious life. Maybe. When my time is up. I will become nothing once again. With no memory. Of having ever existed. Gone. Gone. Gone for good. Never to return.  Of course, as many of you know, I’d like to stick around.  Therefore, I imagine an afterlife. As a body-less, but fully conscious and functional spirit. Seems that’s as likely. As the astounding fact. That I even showed up in the first place.  It can’t be any more preposterous. Than me speculating. That all things are possible. --Jim Broede

In a strange. But beautiful world.

I fortify myself. With the written word. By recording. What I believe. It’s so important. To remind myself. Because I am so many things. I play many roles. I am in a constant state of flux. Renewed. Daily. Never static. On the move.  Creative. With the pulse beat of a god. I am in love. With meaningful words. Little wonder. That I’ve become a writer. Addicted to words. To language. A way.  To become known.  To connect. With others.  I am alone. In so many ways. But still. I am compelled. To reach out. To seek love. In a strange. But beautiful world. --Jim Broede

For the pursuit of love.

I’ve reached the age of uncertainty. An octogenarian. Generally considered an old man. I’m fortunate. At the moment.  Because I am able to take care of myself. But face it. This is a risky age. To live alone. Most of the time. Which I do. I still travel. To Italy. To be with my younger Italian true love. For six weeks. Later this winter. I have faith. That all will go well. Because I am a romantic idealist. A true believer. That life was meant to be lived. Romantically. Almost as if in a dream world. Yes. I recognize. That all good things. Come to an end. Some day. I will die. Leaving my Earthly life. Unexpectedly. But perhaps. There is an afterlife. A spiritual domain. Or a reincarnation. For those who desire to live forever. Because it’s the romantic thing to do. Yes. Yes. I live for the sake of romance. For the pursuit of love. That makes me a genuine romantic idealist. --Jim Broede