Sanctuary stuff storage

Storing stuff. So sanctuary.

Ten things, once. Upon a midnight dreary.

Tick tock.

Tigers singing, screaming, clawing. Friends, still there, but also not. Quiet. Knew this would happen. Missing.

New friends. New people. New places. To get out there again. Coffee dates. Dinner. Hiking.

Random rambling.


Forcing to write, because otherwise is mental blockage. Another way, another route. Also music. Playing. Change.

New and novel. Things we share. Things some avoid. Things I must embrace.

Not even halfway there. Didn’t think I’d make it this far.

Little steps. Baby steps. That movie.

That one time, together. You, me. New, novel, fun. Blinded by the awesome, ignored the rest.

The rest…. the rest…. the rest…..

Was so much more important.

Now change. Different you. Different me. Dyads, triads, solo.

Solo is good. Autonomy. Freedom. Liberation. Joy.

Cauliflower crickets.

Plumbed out crickets

Plugging away in the plumbed out space. Parties peering through the memories.

Another wasted year. Cauliflower crickets call charmingly. Creating cacophonous collages.

In another dimension, frogs. Bats. Water aflame.

Wandering down the twisted path. Straight, straight, down.

Up, what is down? Sideways angles. Take this turn, then this other one. End up right back at the beginning.

But is it? The beginning has ended. The beginning…. it ended when it began.

What about the ending? Does it begin when it ends? Does the end, end?

Snakes. Eating tails.

Bears, eating paws. Stuck in metal teeth. Mink.

Free writing. First learned in 2002? 2003?

A lifetime. A college. Two colleges. Many jobs. Two very wrong decisions.

Heart beats. Heartbeats. Hearts beating.

What if the beating stops?

Tick. Tick. Tick.

A clock ticks. A beginning and an ending.

And a middle, no matter how short. Time passes. Time we can not see, smell, hear, or otherwise detect.

Passing through the fruit of the looms. Loins?

Choices, for one beginning to become another beginning it’s its own choices, decisions, beginnings, and endings.

And don’t forget the middle. The shades of grey. The extremes. The middle. The moderate.

Moderate? Moderation is for monks.

Monks. Meditation. Silence.


Then this thing.



Well, it is now the new year.

It’s also Wednesday. I have two meetings today.

Inviting in a new year is supposed to be such lofty times of goal setting, new hope, optimism, etc. Then in a few weeks, a majority of the universe (so it seems to me) is disappointed with themselves.

Maybe I’ve been isolating too much, because I haven’t seen any grand decade plans. Welcome to a new decade, too.

For me? My goal is to get through today. Simple, easy, and pretty much the same as every other day. If I can manage to do this for another decade, I’ll get to enjoy 2030, too.