timing

sometimes the things we think will happen, don't. sometimes, what we don't expect, does. most times that's the case, i'll say. at least that has been my experience of late. i finally stood on top of a rock and streched my arms out to the sky and said,

yes, more of this.

more of what? it's all been bullshit lately. but that's not what i mean. there is an integrity here. there is something honest going on. i can handle complicated, i can't handle bullshit. that is all i've ever said, and i mean it.

today went nothing like i expected and we two seem to be crossing like ships in the night, but as i said, timing . is . everything .

the one good thing about today is that i came home and feel like writing. will i? not sure, i'm also incredibly restless. but i want to write and that, for a writer, is huge. there is something about the desire, coupled with the fodder that has to be in place. then, it comes down to timing. again with the timing.

i don't understand any of it. why it goes the way it does, i can only trust. and the more i wrap my mind around it, the more i like that phrase i came up with recently, there is something precarious about trusting. it requires trust.

it's one of those obvious absurdities. the kind of thing a poet lives for.

and i'm needing to move forward. to break out. to get somewhere.

but the timing has to be right. it's a bit like jumping into double dutch. you get one chance. you can stay there for days once you're in, it's getting in that is the tricky part.

so much of life goes back to lessons we learned as children.

play nice. (though i am a firm believer that niceness is overrated)

can't think of anymore, because i've never been that good on the playground. always off walking the fences dreaming i was somewhere else.

maybe that's my lesson from childhood.

check in.

i understand completely now, why i opted for checking out.