The Written Addiction

Maybe I should go back to that spot where healing is supposed to take place.

There has to be a time when we say to hell with it.

There was a big storm last night.

I say the same thing all the time.

I do not waste my time and tempt fate or dare the odds of my unforeseen destiny anymore.

So, you want honesty?

There was a video of a young woman who was asked why she wrote so many love poems.

I understand what it means to feel lost or elsewhere and what t means to be or believe as if to be out of this hemisphere and more, I get how it is to seem like a stranger while alive and well and living here in familiar territory.

The sun is later today.

It is strange to think that today marks 54 times that I have spun around the sun.

I can understand the reason why people take a drink or a pill or look to find something that helps them sail beyond the concrete on the sidewalks of New York City.

And it all comes down to this. . .

I see no reason not to lie.

The noises you hear in this place are not like anywhere else.

I have heard it said that you’ve grown when you start to find gratitude in the moments we are least grateful for.

I keep saying that I know there is more.

Understand something.

I know.

Thursday afternoon or closer to the evening.

I have never seen much more than what I have seen.

I have never been tough.

And you go and you try and you fight and you grind.

Do you want to know what’s hard?

Labor Day Weekend – The waves were quiet yesterday.

I go back to that thought which my Mother tried to encourage that life is life and there is only one chance to make this life what we want it to be.

And no one thinks.

I am north from where I would rather be and south of the sun, south of the clouds, and I am south of the moon, which was hidden last night, due to the clouds.

No one ever told this was going to be easy.