Sometimes it’s the little things, and sometimes it’s not. Sometimes it’s really only the biggest things that life has to offer and nothing else will do. It’s enough fucking snacks; we’re in need of a meal - sit down, tuck in, wine and dine. Nothing else will do. Enough snacks will take care of the hunger, but enough of that. That’s not what we’re looking for. We’re not looking for dried fruits and nuts in a bag with knock-off M&M’s. We’ve had enough of that! We’re looking for filet mignon over a bed of creamy potatoes, special sauce and zesty vegetables to offset, an old fashioned before and ideally a new fucking metaphor after.
Truly, I’m grateful, but enough of the fucking little things. I’ve been finding wonder in the sun rising and setting each day. I’ve been acknowledging the joy in laughter and the wonderment of connection in the little daily interactions with our fellow humankind. I’ve even been stopping to enjoy the clouds, and rain, and touch of cold on the wet wind that reminds you to so deeply appreciate the warmth when it arrives. Enough!
I want to see the world. I want to experience passion, rising fiery passion, and then the sinking ice cold breaks. I want to do more drugs and lose my mind for a time, but to see and feel things that will change my world. I want to create, to build up, and I want to burn and tear down. Give me the highs and the lows and let me leap and plummet past the mundane middle as I oscillate between. I want saga without cliche; adventure without rest. Run, run, run, and with not a thought to sustainability or longevity. Give me the present, let me forget the past, and fuck the future, merrily. I don’t want to stop and smell the roses. I want to FLY.
Truly, I’m grateful, but enough of the fucking little things. I’ve been finding wonder in the sun rising and setting each day. I’ve been acknowledging the joy in laughter and the wonderment of connection in the little daily interactions with our fellow humankind. I’ve even been stopping to enjoy the clouds, and rain, and touch of cold on the wet wind that reminds you to so deeply appreciate the warmth when it arrives. Enough!
I want to see the world. I want to experience passion, rising fiery passion, and then the sinking ice cold breaks. I want to do more drugs and lose my mind for a time, but to see and feel things that will change my world. I want to create, to build up, and I want to burn and tear down. Give me the highs and the lows and let me leap and plummet past the mundane middle as I oscillate between. I want saga without cliche; adventure without rest. Run, run, run, and with not a thought to sustainability or longevity. Give me the present, let me forget the past, and fuck the future, merrily. I don’t want to stop and smell the roses. I want to FLY.
:) :) :)
My mental headspace is a strange combination of void and chaos - a nothingness, primarily benign, lies like a warm comforter over a bed of fervent stirring and existential questioning. So... it feels nice, certainly better than it would without it. But then it masks what lies underneath, and so what’s underneath goes unaddressed again.