suffer well, temptation

don't tempt me,

she said,

i don't suffer well, temptation.

and i hear her in my mind, when the chance for mischief comes.

go for it,

she whispers.

it's been a long time.

and i refuse.

what are you waiting for,

she asks.

i may be foolish, but i'm no fool. i may have inclinations toward things that are not mine, but i am also not fool enough to claim them. that which is mine will come to me. i believe this. and so i wait.

i walk away.

we wander together, she and i, my shadow, i guess you'd call her. and i listen to her sometimes, when her suggestions do not require a compromise of soul.

i listen to her sometimes.

my school has summer classes. sigh. and one of my other great loves besides poetry is psychology.

there is a jungian analyst whom i desperately want to study with (but that would take me in completely other directions), who is offering a summer class on the creative unconscious. i think i have to take it.

as much as i don't want to spend my summer studying, i think this is a road i need to go down, for personal reasons.

as the collected works of jung sit, unread in a crate on the floor. i know, i need to get to them, but i'm waiting for the right moment in time.

it's not that i need credit for everything i do, it's that the things i do are like steps in a dance. sure it's an improvisational dance, but a dance nonetheless. so i must wait for the music to dictate the steps, or for my soul to rise up and go. to take the dance, make the leap, step our further than i could have concieved in my mind.

maybe i need a second bachelor's in psych. that would be good. i would love that.

so, fare well free time, i shall see you again someday.

for now, for me, it is psych, and i'm excited.

peace. out.