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Literally, I’m going to do this

Years ago (2006 to be specific), as a fan of the show Boston Legal, I developed a form of anger management practice for myself by modeling my responses after James Spader’s character Alan Shore. Before speaking, I would ask myself, "What would Alan Shore do?" (WWASD)

I did this for several weeks with much success before confiding my plan with my wife. Now she is aware and periodically calls out, “you’re doing it now!” with a grin. I tilt my chin up slightly, give a Mona Lisaesque smile, and reply, “of course I am.”

[Source]

WWASD do was fun and tempered me well. Today I’ve decided to take inspiration from another character. So, friend who reads my words, do not be surprised if I see you in public and say something like, "Hello driver who parks car poorly" or "Neighbor I only see when you need something" or "Well endowed, large breasted friend of mine." The time has come for me to channel and embody Dave Bautista’s character from Guadian’s of the Galaxy, Drax. So, what would Drax say? WWDS.

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7 Cups of Tea, by Lu Tong (795 – 835 CE)

The first cup kisses away my thirst,
and my loneliness is quelled by the second.
The third gives insight worthy of ancient scrolls,
and the fourth exiles my troubles.
My body becomes lighter with the fifth,
and the sixth sends word from immortals.
But the seventh—oh the seventh cup—
if I drink you, a wind will hurry my wings
toward the sacred island.
Translated by Christopher Nelson

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Passion

Stars have blossomed in the night sky
The last wafts of smoke rise into the purple
Framed by tall pines covering the horizons
The flames have subsided
A loud crack, snap, pops from a remaining log
In the ashen pit
A bright red glows within the coals
Oranges and yellows echo the memory of the recent fire
And emits warmth
A memory of the burning, passion
Stars vanish
One by one millions of years after they extinguish
Violently
The sky darkens
Stars disappear more quickly
Clouds blanket the purple turning the sky
First grey then black
Thunder claps and the first rain drop
Falls on the coals with a sizzle
Hot timber in the pit screams
An ember is splashed
It winces, darkening
Then resists, glowing more strongly
Water falls from the sky, faster
Pouring
The ember glances around
Seeing other embers doused
Forever
Fewer to support each other
Chilling
Yet the ember fights on
Striving to produce
Heat
But losing
The fight
The light
Gone.

Beneath a bed of ashes
So wet on the surface
Awaits an ember
Feeling the cold
Holding onto its own heat
In hopes to be discovered
Uncovered
Resurrected
To bring forth a fire.