—THERE GOES MY MIND RACING

  

…We had a 4.3 earthquake this morning at 3am.  The epicenter was on Three Lakes Road, about two miles from my house.  What are the odds?  It was a massive rumbler, kind of freaky, but no damage that I know of.  It’s not really the way you want to start your day, but what are you gonna do?

…Here’s the piece I told you about a few posts back:

http://ghostparachute.com/the-thing-about-envy/

…I’m a little obsessed with this song:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HeHiio1sTTI

…I guess there’s always more to say.

…Sometimes it’s the ones you don’t love that you end up believing.

…Lately I’ve been doing a lot of living disguised as myself.  Funny thing is, no one’s noticed, least of all me.

…“Destiny: what man doesn’t find it, in the waste of his heart?” Beckian Fritz Goldberg

…A memory yesterday while having breakfast at the bakery.  I am twelve, manning the orchards, hoisting fifteen-foot-long irrigation poles over my shoulder.  It’s over 90 degrees, as it always is in July, Tri-Cities.  I'm panicking because I can’t remember how to connect the main joist with the lead pole and have to ask the foreman/owner for help.  He shakes his head and says, “You’re not very smart, are you?  Seems like half the time you have an airlock in your head.”  I tell my brother and he goes after the foreman.  It’s embarrassing, but not.  It’s the one time I can remember him sticking up for me. 

…It’s funny the things a person recalls, especially a ton of years later.

…What’s turning blurry for you is crystal clear to me.

…I’m trying to keep the angels from cracking my hip.

…When you’re housebound you spend a lot of time rummaging through your own inventory.  It can be a little unnerving to discover what you’ve hoarded over the years, what you haven’t.  And I’m not talking about material goods.

…I think I’m the best-dressed inmate out there, or if not, I’m in the higher percentile.

…The books you avoid still happen.  Someone needs to remember the guts of the story.

…It will take more years than I have to write the poem that finally frees us, and even then.  Even then.

…Every day after school, instead of asking young Albert if he had a good day, Einstein’s mother would ask him, “Did you ask good questions today?”  I sort of love that.  I’ve always loved Einstein, but maybe I just really love the person his mother made him.

…It’s frustrating when ppl aren’t on social media and you can’t get ahold of them.   What’s the point in being so reclusive?  Weren’t we all created to be social beings?

…There’s a difference between hiding and shunning.  I get the one, the other just hurts.

…What’s the difference between missing and longing, jealousy and envy?  Sometimes the subtle distinctions are everything.

…The ppl we love can come at us like lightening.  Sometimes we’re not ready for them, and it’s disconcerting.  Sometimes the force of what they’re bringing is too strong to absorb the right way when it hits.

…I love Post-its.  That scene from Bruce Almighty, where he’s God and is writing down all the prayers on Post-it notes, with the room completely covered in them, sometimes that looks like my office.

…You repent the things you’ve done, and regret the chances you let slip away.

…Any moment, the very next second, we could be dead.  That’s not maudlin, just the truth, reality.  It should be the sober, wakeup call we all need, yet sometimes that’s not even enough.

…I write every day.  I usually produce at least something, and more often than not, it’s quite a lot of something.  Still I feel like I’m floundering.  What does it mean to write all these random things?  Why is it even important or worthwhile?  I have this, the blog, for therapeutic purposes.  I guess what I’m saying is my writing lacks purpose, and yeah, I get the symbolism in that statement.

…Today starts a new weekend workshop.  Maybe I’ll find some new words there.  Maybe I’ll find some needed answers.

…Some nights are jamborees, just me and the island mattress.  What I’m best at is The Dime Toss, yet I can never win the stuffed bear.

…It’s not feeling any different.  That much I’ll swear to.

…This should have been a dream, something to wake from, but I never do.