i’m not sure i was ready. the structure is comforting in many ways, but it also means a numbness that comes from knowing what i am supposed to be doing at any given moment of the day while i am awake.
it makes it hard to do dreamwork at night though. sooner or later, one must stop working. sometimes the brain does its best work when it isn’t being observed but even then, it’s hard to simply go to sleep without purpose. i am tired but i must remember my dreams, it seems, in order to make any use of them at all.
but no, not tonight. tonight, have at it, brain, like you’ve got a pocketful of molly and a hot friend at your side.
(who am i kidding though, i haven’t done that shit in years. it was fun the last time I did, though).
there must still be some fun in me somewhere, with or without the help, but until i can find it again, i’ll settle for fiberglass vessels and friends paddling out over an alpine lake until all the tourists crawling all over the beach are less than ants anymore. They are nearly invisible now and we aren’t watching people feed white bread to wild ducks, just staring out across dark blue water, feeling like it’s all still so unadulterated.
when shit gets to be too much to handle it helps to shift my perspective. i’m getting there now, shit is getting to be too much to handle for sure. i am about to ask myself a question i’ve asked myself before. what other choice do i have? and i will consider the myriad ones that arise.
i just need one of those things, those fiberglass vessels. it would be so much easier to find me. i’d be floating away.
sanguine meander 