I'm having one of those charmed life removed from reality experiences. The one where being in the middle of some luscious acid trip seems to be the most reasonable explanation. For the first time in a while I seem to be navigating by my heart more than my head and ignoring the consequences for the moment at least. I keep getting stuck in the spaces between whole thoughts, and that emptiness and vastness is sort of relieving--a well earned reprieve from the matters housed between my ears. I lick my lips and ponder whether I made the whole thing up.
I don't even think this is a conversation I'm ready to have with myself quite yet. I think I'm content to sit and drink tea and watch the snow begin to fall on Main Street, though it is much to warm this morning to even contemplate sticking. Headed out in a bit for a weekend in the woods, after which I'm hoping to return with a much clearer head and cleaner conscience. For now I am working to just sit with this chaos and clarity and all too physical manifestation.
"I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked,dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix,angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night, who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking in the supernatural darkness of cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz..."
About Me
- Me, I'm holding out hope for a zombie attack
- “What are you, life? A silent theater of Chinese shadows, a chain of dreams, a charlatan’s store? Or a gift of unrequited love---that’s all that is intended for me? What about happiness? Ingrate, you’re alive, you weep love strive fall and that’s not enough? What?...Not enough? Oh, is that so? There isn’t anything else.”--Tatyana Tolstaya
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