It’s raining

Whats bright might one day illuminate even through refraction of perception.

Whats bright might one day illuminate even through refraction of perception.

I can’t sleep this evening, rather, early morning. It’s almost 2 and I can’t seem to find it in me to lay down and turn on the fan, since the humidity would just circulate itself.
So the question of trying to sleep it is for the most part out of the question.

There is rain however, the kind that is relentless in its assault on the world outside my window. It has me pondering the thoughts about freedom of choice and if everything is as it’s supposed to, in its right place. Falling vertically as it does, the outlines of the ghosts I greet every morning dance under the embraces of this all too overlooked gift.

A lot has happened in the past few weeks, I’ve lost my mind, found it a couple times, then proceeded to again lose it to fatigue and a self professed fugue state that lasted three working days leaving the days following rather disoriented and full of hope and wonderment for the betterment of mankind. I know that last bit to be a bit of a pipe dream, but I like to believe that the money that I give the beggar in front of the mosque isn’t going to a panhandling scheme, I cannot judge or anticipate, for that is seeing the worst side of one another and not hoping better for the world. But where am I to go when the winds of change are seem to confusing that the Sirens leading me to the rocks don’t even know what time they think would be appropriate to show up and thus proceed to forgo the appointment all together.

This is time standing still in my head as I hope to sort out some words and give them to no one to read. Peer reviewed by the one person who won’t fact check an article about why the article is being written seems like naive response to not caring to put this through a word processor, hoping Google’s language engine has analyzed my keystrokes enough to know I’ll always misspell.

So here I am still writing, mainly because I’ve given myself creative block by making sure that all the parameters for not getting work done are met. Set a goal for whence a task should be completed is basically telling myself that it will never get done and something more important will come along, seeing as it always doesn’t. Make sure these goals are impossibly lofty with no prior full qualifications to complete them, without ample time to prepare and live with the standards and technique necessary for their development, well I’m just fighting with my own will to learn and create. Yep, thats probably why, I just need to occupy something, even this little thing. 

It’s 2:10 now, I’ll be up and eating in an about an hour. Trying to hold together a life I’m never sure of anymore, with an omelet and enough water to bloat a sun dried tomato. I’ll still feel ungrateful that I wasn’t able to give more to something besides my perceived humility to the world, and went back to sleep with a full stomach and a job. Why the fuck am I even writing any of this?

Because I’m bored with nothing better to do?
Or maybe I’ve actually lost my mind, in this month, where I’m probably supposed to?

All I know for sure right now, and lets be frank there ain’t much of that a lot, but the things that I can say for sure right now, this rain feels fantastic on my feet. Cooling whatever fire I felt before the chamomile, quelling this nightmare but for a few moments. I’ll be up in a few, with a the same stolid annoyed face no one seems to get is just neutral and nothing personal as my projections upon the world.I won’t he hoping for the good anymore, no, just making sure they know it exists, and they know that what it is.

Love everyone, and everything, always. Dwell on the good, accept the bad, and get off the phones and explore the world around you. Its amazing… Look: a droplet of water slowly sliding off the leaf.

Thanks for reading… if that’s what’s to be done.  

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