September 29th, 2008
Then there are these days. A fine start with cool air. A dew-dropped world. And plenty to be done, but I know that if I don't come here first—get to the writing—nothing will get done right. Any tasks I take on will be done slowly, inaccurately, body going through the motions without the mind on board.
It's good that I know this. That I can tell. That I know when it's time to sit. Reorganize. Sift. Get through the thoughts. Exercise the big muscle. Put this in perspective.
All these things going on.
Pills for erections.
Ailments. Cures. Protests.
And all we had to do was work the land, feed our bellies, be good to one another, grow strong in spirit, procreate and carry on.
But there are grocery carts with wobbly wheels. People cutting in line.
Fast food to order. Dope to smoke. Beer to drink. Couches, tvs, and PSPs that need attention.
And so it goes in this life. People paying for distraction. Getting high. Getting low. Getting dumb and horny. Doing whatever can be done to avoid the painful realities of bucking up, digging in, peeling away the layers so that Truth can pulse and shine.
After all, this is mankind. We do not wait. We've places to go. Gas to burn. Freedoms to exercise.
The delicate keeping of balance spins on and on. And it's a morning like this—all thought, coolness and dewdrops—that's got me here. Steady and centered. Sure-footed and ready to buck up. Strip away the layers. Carry on.
I'm preachy this morning. Full of myself. And what I want so very much is to knock some sense into this goddamned world. One word at a time. Like a fist you cannot see, but feel—in the dark—coming.
(copyright © 2008 by K.J. Stevens)