in many ways I’d rather be here than someplace else. what difference I make, makes no difference here. fish will find me familiar fare.
becalmed means staying in place. water says, please.
not so easy, speaking truth. so I tell myself, the world still shines like heaven does. no, don’t think it is diminished even an atom’s worth. but me? I feel excluded. that’s not possible. same water, same ocean, same sky even.
there’s the lie. familiar, I should admit. a perfect world with an imperfect me. my logic ain’t even dependable. memory is shy. like I used to be. now there’s fog between me and my eyes. I used to adore the fog. now I just feel confused.
for a time I thought the thread was linear, one after another you understand. thinking my share of life growing short, though that coming with a certain peace. then, less dire, being focused on more lively attitude – just because. maybe that was more-right I felt. then, was it next, realizing my attitude made absolutely no difference in how the soup would result. my body a ship, me a passenger. now they seem a matter of simply holding hands, all attitudes available all the time. choose.
the medical teams did their chore, fixing me – well, better than before. and a second now is testing my chemistry – so far so good – or – too early to say. maybe I feel better. maybe physically. but there’s another ring to wear. how do I feel? I mean, how do I feel being me? not an easy question to answer right now, today.
the queen is dead, long live the king.
seems appropriate to say, even if I can’t say why.
maybe it’s arrogance or defensiveness, why I hold myself apart – worse, not better, is still apart and a manner of crown if you understand. ungenerous of me. the answer to pain is love. with another once upon a time, we said that. does not say what pain qualifies. and I did say I would never lie about the truth of being here. if it seems something less, then that’s a statement about myself, not about the world of life. you understand?
perhaps the best spoonfuls of this whole post are the two pictures of Monterey Bay in the morning fog. the rest, the text, your forberance is asked. but still feel I owe you something of me, no matter the glamor or no.
I’ll work on a better attitude.
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