the meat of the matter

Like a cut of nameless meat,

rippling muscled, red, full of possibility.

So is my life.

Raw, needing to mix with flavors,

people, elicit affairs, experiences.

melded together, joined, sacredly united

by chance or by pure atavism.

all of it gives

me something to be about,

something to speak about.

tell me....

- what makes you want to wake up in the morning?

-what do you have? give it away.

-Is there something you do that makes you feel like you are fulfilling your purpose, and are you making time to do that?

-do you question yourself and the world often?

-do you want something from others or would you rather give to them?

*I try to ask myself these questions everyday* 

life

is

figuring 

things

out.

mmmhhhaaamm

*Let go,  let your thoughts run rampant into weird and deep places. Crevices and corners of the psyche.*

most of the time...

     I       walk

                                  through 

                 life            

                           

                             like

             it's a dream, 

  

                                               

                                my dream.

very short thoughts

Most nights I would lay in my bed for at least one hour before sleep pulled me in to unconsciousness.

I would lie on both sides looking at the walls, the bed posts, the pictures. 

But not often did I stare up at the ceiling. 

The blankness of that vast, empty space was lost on me.