The last time I went to Mead's Quarry there were truckloads of broken glass and other scruffiness. Today I saw heartfelt stone and brick work built from stuff that had just been lying around (plus, we weren't trespassing anymore) - a mere beginning and tribute to effective use of available resources showing the potential for something beautiful that can be created from scorched earth - the kind of thing that speaks to my Scorpio mind (10-29 - my day off is Tuesday to celebrate "Black Tuesday" every week - destroy/ innovate.)

continued...

I will now admit that in college I was in a fraternity in order to tell you that my nickname was "Scruffy." I was a dirty, cynical bastard and fit right in with this "scruffy little city by the tracks" that had a piss poor attitude. I began to fall in love with ambitious women that wanted the hell out of here - to someplace "real," but I soon became obsessed not with wanting to run away with them, but with putting some love all over this place in order to attract and not repel. If you "feel me" right now, I want to thank you for growing up with me, and this town. Welcome to the new world where we don't bitch about what we think we deserve but what we know we can build next, like places where people can dance around barefoot and fall in love. Thanks again, scruffy little city dwellers.
When the mysteries we believe in
Aren’t dreamed enough to be true
Some side with the leaves
Some side with the seeds