it's late.

i'm tired. but not sleepy.

driving home, i'm quite content with the state of things. though i know how i could be more content (if that were possible). isn't the measure of contentment that one cannot be more contented. or are we always a smidge away from the true contentment that we idealize? that's it, isn't it? idealizing someone or something. maybe i mean idolizing, the two aren't very far apart in my mind. and i speak too honestly when i'm late. i should just can it and go to bed.

but the hour will get the best of me.

and then the darkness will take me into his arms, and i will find sleep there.

after i open my window to hear the train and the crickets, to be wakened by the birds and the skittering squirrels, all abed in their lush tails now.

my squirrel who used to wait in dogwood (when i frequented dogwood), now waits on porch. little squirrel all sprawled out on the porchrail, belly down, arms crossed. prostrate. i love to see him there, and i wonder if it is him. how can you tell? but for his pose. i don't see many squirrels sprawled out on tree branches or porch rails, or rain gutters for that matter.

i, among women, am truly blessed.

i've got some weird wildlife surrounding me, and i love it.

crossed paths with a possom a couple times, in the dark of morning. not the most attractive of creatures, but i'm sure they provide some purpose. maybe their just being is purpose enough. i don't know. but an argument could be made in favor of that.

the weird places my mind goes when it's tired.

it's like a little chestnut pony that wants to do anything other than follow her lead.

but i'm tired now, wisdom mandates i surrender to shadow.
that i lie abed for as long as possible.

work comes again, too soon.

i hope i got everything tonight.

i left the music too loud though. that's for sure.

ah well.

peace. out.