Oh diary,,diary diary diary.
How am I doin?
Fuck you is how I’m doin..
Kidding..
Too blessed to be stressed?
I sit Indian style with a cat and only a bit of coffee running through the veins,,
(Shouldn’t drink coffee at night)
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There’s another word for improvisation ,all forms,,
Musical, dramatic, comedic, suspenseful , political public speaking,,
There’s another word for it…
Nobody wants to say it….
Bullshitting.
There. I said It.
Having thought is one thing, but being able to channel your flow in the moment?
Magic.
I will respect that and those that do , until I die.
Real talk.
And you can’t do it if you’re slouching, no slouches allowed.
But that’s alright.
What I do is think.
That’s what I’ve always done, productive or not,,
It’s me and you in this thing, and the world out there isn’t scary,, it’s just ..stupid.
And people wear their motivations on the sleeve.
So I look at the ceiling instead.
I close my eyes and remember corn fields and sunflowers and watermelon.
Being in the woods With my Collie.
I can live in the ceiling, ain’t no thang.
No plans or direction,, just thinking.
I’m sorry your world is so crazy.I wish it wasn’t.
And maybe it’s not as bad as I perceive.
Sometimes I feel like,,,,understanding that people are horrible, is what makes them predictable.
ANd that is a shitty shitty logic to operate under.
You’ll be right,
But it’s still shitty..
I don’t want to think about it.
dawn 