I have been here for days. Writing, re-writing, editing and singing this whole blog thing like an aria. You'd never know, but I have. I wrote down my entire day all weekend and it was a diary and analysis and an indictment against all the booga booga and nonsense.
I have discussed being outside of dependence and how well the punishment for that carries on the wind. I have spoken eloquently on my resistance to change. How very much I hate the paths we have to chose and where they wind and the mystery of it all. I hate it. I want back the bad roads I've visited.
I wrote about writing and the vernacular I try to balance with an interesting prose. I want that wedding complete and I want it dissolved. believe me, I'm letting my head wander. It's any where but here some days; but, oddly, it's centered here and returning. I've been less afraid of the contents of my head.
Today I saw a fat man on Galena with his shirt off-a cold day in Illinois and it struck me how he walked childlike and stiff, covered in gray down, a car passing between he and I with a rainbow on the back. Everything looking so significant...somehow me terribly aware of how disproportionately so.
Saw an old friend. Tony. Been too long, but not to late to find that again. If you see this give me a call-that request was not mere lip service. I haven't caught up with you and I'd like to. Listening to a ton of Miles.
I've had my very own inquisition into the fiber of infidelity and the color of sexual jealousies. I don't know anything about either. I can't be either extreme, and the things I think are not the things I want.
Long story, but I think it's ok in this here head.
When I can sort I'll tell you more.