Internal
To find strength again is to feel the fullness of life again.
Today, a return to form after an unannounced hiatus. We go straight into the season of Volume 5: Only Now, in these last days of 2024.
A series of sneezes
sponsored by I’m sick.
Wobbly glasses discovery
at the end of the line.
The right lens pops out.
I reinsert keep all eyes (both)
alert, more sneezing fits,
thinking about what someone said,
if you stop listening to music for a while,
you’ll notice that your brain will reset itself.
We’re not meant to listen to music
all the time in an attempt to block
our thoughts, thinking we’ll be
successful avoiding our thoughts.
If I wind up losing my mind,
I wish for the best of send-offs.
No official diagnosis,
only occasional suspicions…
Yet, mind remains sharp as ever,
as it can be. If I get my wings
I’ll fly away into holy silence…
Out there—bloated old men claim they're running things. Unknown glowing in the night sky, shutting down the airfields. Does this mark the beginning of something much bigger?
Eminem's mom dies. He rewrites a few bars. There's buzzing and accusation, sentencing. Wait until the thread is pulled, soon, sudden, actor-heroes become anti-heroes. In the throes of CEO woes.
Maybe the drones will drift away, or it’s UFOs w/ benevolent beings shutting down additional reactors.
At home, reading. Looking up, connecting. And through health question marks there's a little healing, like who knew a return to a daily vitamin would even me out so much. Yet today, with a second glass of iced tea, I'm back home feeling slightly off with bouts of dizziness. Problem-solving as a matter of deduction.
In mid-November, I strolled from Dupont Circle into Georgetown, as I love to do, and by the time I arrived I was met with a screaming headache and uneasy stomach—it took two weeks to recover. I stayed in my head, wondering if this was finally it, but if not, to gain strength again is to feel the fullness of life again.
Be deep. Go deep.
And be honest with yourself
about where you are.
The kitties dart under my hat and scarf on the old desk next to the sink. Cuteness is refreshed in each moment. The bond increases. I’m forming sentences as slowly as I can, created as I am, watching this word count—thinking about life Internal.
Out there—the impressions we make.
For as long as our eyes are open, we’re projecting,
and as long as we’re projecting, we’re imprinting.
Thoughts and feelings. More importantly,
what we’re feeling. If only we could vibrate
truth to imprint the external,
this would be a step toward ending
an inflammation of depression
in our worlds.