How I live.

I love the clarity which is days in length.

I'm feeling so much better knowing I have a paycheck coming. Sure, it's not what I made 'in the old days,' but it will sustain me, and the work will be work as it should be. Work is a necessity and sometimes, rarely, a fufillment. I'm okay with it just paying my bills, now. I'm not sure what happened, but something clicked and I realized who the fuck cares what I do "for a living." My job will not be my "living." Ask me how I live.

In fact, I now...just now decided I despise the question, "What do you do for a living?" "Same as you fuckwad, get by, squeeze out some substance juice, make a connection, hope to enjoy a good cigarette in the middle of a perfect gloaming when all is still and bugs hover over my plants and birds sing...you know, shit like that. Cream of the crop life moments...the ones we forget but hold us captivated for a minute, a cathartic 'now I get it' moment."

I'm appreciating the knowing of secretly good people, you know the kind you have to absorb for awhile before you see their goodness...I like complicated goodness...in fact, it's all I really trust. In your face good...well that's just bad, now isn't it. Annoying in fact.

Now, that I don't have to worry about money coming in I can concentrate on not worrying. Especially the elusive worry who seems to have no root. That little bugger is gonna be flushed and out faced, like the wrinkled shirt thrown over a chair who pretends to be someone scary in the dark when you were a kid....but after the light is flipped on. I'm about turning on lights these days

I'm sleepy...can you guess? I should sleep. That's what you do when you're tired, right?

G'night.

Black Hole Sun

There's a fine line between having a life and living a life. I suppose a desicion is made, perhaps in the morning, perhaps after the first cup of coffee to either mindfully lift your feet and place them one in front of the other, moving forward, or just moving. And then there is a choice to not walk, to stand and look over the shoulder pondering your surroundings and wondering if what lies ahead is any more appealing.

I have a lot of unfinished business. I'm so disenchanted with it all...yes, I know, exhasperating, another overwhelmed (and at times underwhelmed) soul. I realize I'm to marvel at the miracle of life and the majesty in the myriad of lights in the sky. I'm just not that impressed with this reality of ours.

Everything seems so predictable. On the news I'm guaranteed to see something about another soldier missing a leg, or an arm, or reduced to a mere stump full of American pride. On the streets I'm sure to find a Ford truck with a Fuck Saddam or a Support our Troops magnet slapped to the tailgate. In local news another city will reject adding gays and lesbians to the anti-discrimination laws because the voters feel it would be going against their strong morale values to add such a clause.

I watch us lose our humanity and replace it with more stratification. We're reinforcing our stereotypes, because we're afraid of what we would be without them. Who would we be without a mold to look at and say, "this is where I come from."

Sometimes it's easier to stand still, wrap your arms around yourself and hold the only thing you have control over, protecting it from unseen forces. Sometimes taking steps forward seems pointless knowing how many of those unseen forces are ready, somewhere down that path, to knock you on your ass and laugh in your face.

I'm not giving up. I'm just taking a pause to really look at things. Hoping to see past it all and find the inertia of the universe, that which causes stars to explode or implode depending on the mass of the matter. And in their wake planets and life may form, or there is always the alternative; the black hole where not even light can escape.