Recollections wreck elections. I know there are things needing to be done.
Lope to the kitchen. I watch ditches. Sink spirits like a loose cannon. Water cannon.
Cold sweat overtakes me. I know there are things needing to be done. Anxiety knew long before as it crowded my brain migraine. Ache eats into my subconscious. Need something to occupy my mine.
Resort to electronics but the terror vision is no relief. Too many nude dead love triangles to handle in one day. Too many scandals in sandals. Judgements to be made, judgements to be forgiven, and we all get flushed through the news cycle like wet herds. If I can resist the social media wagon, I can resist the negative commentary troll baggin’. I could witch mice elf out of this crazy place. Sometimes our escapes make us fools. Sometimes fools are wise as wizards.
Digital pastimes fill me with guilt because I know there are things needling to be done. Virtual comforts pass when the power goes out. Then it’s so quiet I can hear the gangs down the sloped street chuting each other. No one thinks they’re alone, and yet everyone does. Everyone gets up and goes for a ride. Everyone stops at the end of the slide.
What does it all mean? Why are we here? To do better? To make it all better? To be like Eddie Vedder? The search continues through the sinews. Learning hits me like a ten ton ruler on the back of the hand. When I feel it I remember again, and I don’t say it, ’cause there’s no need to repeat the spin.