The disconected ramblings of an unhinged mind


I am older than I was. I learn so much and so little each day. I am in love. I am tired and worn out. I am happy and exhausted and weary and built up. I am confused and dim witted. I am a beast. I am a poet. I think and I feel and I ponder. I listen to music and muse on life and the future. I think much these days, these dark long days. These bright short days. I would not trade their lessons for the world. Coffee is good and sleep is better. Time is well spent is invaluable. Rest for the weary is pure joy. Remember the smells of yesterday. Distance is not the same as apart. Striving is hard work, abiding is hard work, resting can be hard too. The sun will rise again. Jello and baby food is a pain to stock - toilet paper and kinds of soup are easy. Listen, rest, pray. Work is a blessing and a privilege, not a right. Drink lots of water. Learn to connect. Learn to listen for secret hurts, pains, and agony's. Learn to let yourself be loved. Learn to laugh at your laughable state. Keep your friends close. Don't be to harsh on those who say stupid things. Check the fluids in your car. Develop "presence". Everything you have is a gift. EVERYTHING. Even now is just a season, and this too shall pass. Don't sacrifice the future for the present. Listen to Nina Simone. Read Luke. Marvel at the story that is your life. Listen to the counsel of father's and friends. What man has done man can do. Tomorrow is coming. It's ok to not be ok - but it's not ok to stay there.


Prisoner of the Night

I wandered these fields once before.

The world was a very diffrent place then.

Thank goodness they hold a different comfort for me now.



. . . . . . . . 25

What doe's it mean when your asked how old you are and you have to stop and think - do the math - and answer wrong?

That's what I did yesterday - when turning in a job application.

"How old are you"

". . . . . . . 25"

Or when you wake up with a bloody nose, and you've tossed all your blankets and pillows on the floor.

Or when you can't sleep because your brain won't stop crunching life.

Ugh . . . . . . . .

Nothing like looking for jobs at 4 am, unless it's looking for jobs at 10 pm.

And there is nothing to do but keep at it.

Nothing else to do . . .

Wait . . . work . . . strive . . . hold the corse . . . stay on target . . . sounds so easy . . .



The horizon is always there - walk day and night and you never reach it. It wavers, it changes, it dips and rises, but never does it meet you. Wander in a dark room or a thick fog- you move and yet nothing changes. Search the haystack for a needle that may not be there.

Work is not a right.

Do you see that?

Do you understand?

Despair get's it's power from a truth and it's endurance from a lie.