non-fiction?

it seems that it is very american to be unaware of our surroundings and the impact of our actions on them.  it also seems to be quite characteristic to voluntarily shine a light on the ground so a disabled stranger can see, and subsequently walk safely.  we are much like teenagers, acting recklessly, with little remorse, and blaming the authority figures in our lives for our situations; all the while possessing a heart of gold that drives slowly dulling instincts.  these things can be applied to all of humanity at one time or another i am sure, however it seems that our detachment from consequences in this country allows for a greater degree of separation.  in the time to come i believe we will soon see if we can survive the excruciating growing pains that accompanies the slow march of time and the spinning of stratospheres, maybe eventually learning how to grab ahold of those instincts that remain and learn how to play nicely with others..........

clean

sorting through the woodpile, readying rooms, the ever growing list of things more pressing than what once was.  the activity stirs the dust which has become comfortable in our distraction.....................

evening........

words are easy to hide behind, twisting and winding through an invented grammar of nouns and verbs.  subjecated we are to these shortcomings, once in a while seeing the expanse beyond the horizontal line drawn in the sand by those that have come before us......................

one more shift......

formatted for the plentiful left overs of consumer clutter, some will wander and see the beauty of a two liter dr. pepper discard, next to bushes rooting into apartment complex concrete.  each item possessing a personality, cute and maddening at the same time, the dry ringing of acoustic guitars leading the march into the inknown, or the felt, yet unacknowledged, as if we have no say in the matter, i wish not to give power away so quickly, remember, remembr, rememb, remem, reme, rem, re, rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr...............................

camping, doodling

the woods smell sweet in the waning days of june, a thick mist of sleepy summer hangs over the tree tops.  slow conversations and fast drawings fill days with dynamic sloppiness,  although inspiring at times, the noise can be overwhelming.  perspective gained over time spent gives nine lives a new meaning and new life approaches.
a bit more of a bit less i think would do me good.  everything, everywhere, all the intentions and all the action, the quiet is lost under a sea of chatter............

objective is perspective.....

a run in with addiction leads to necessary de-escalation, a different definition of need, the struggle to guide without commanding, to accept what is there while attempting to manifest the outcome, coursework in parenting the next few months will be..............

meeting outside........

listening to the outside voice of sparkling children street crossing in the dead of day, during which the call of porches are stronger than work, it is then that i sit and count my blessings, wondering when master plans will be forsaken, the future perishing on a cross somewhere in some meadow in some far off forgotten land..............