So, I’m just sitting here minding my own business…you know how it is. Doin’ this and doin that. Same ol’ shit here. Nothin’ new. Nothin’ too fancy. This is my life. Sort of. Well, I guess I just gotta face the facts, ya know. I mean, my life is just a one day after the other, one foot in front of the other sort of exisitence that drags on into a wormhole blackhole blurring of space and time.
Planets of play in my mind and stars and moons with beams from my heart.
All waltzng together (when I really want them to tango)
But one is left out.
Always angry and jealous—rage the color of the rainbow but holding no promise of a pot of gold at the nonexistent end of which I’ve heard but never felt–never seen. Never been seen through the cat eyes of the Maker playing yo-yo with the galaxies in my mind.
Playing card tricks with neighborhoods between heartbeats.
Playing piano on the very breath I take in.
Playing hop-scotch on my joints as I run the marathon of waking life.
Playing mad-libs on my consciousness
Playing make believe with my Voice
Yes, that is the pizza of my brain. The only way that I know how to be and do and exist in life is to bowl my way through my days. And look forward to sleeping because in sleeping I am really living and honeycomb my life. Are my dreams better waking or sleeping? Do I even dream at all? I am not spinach. I am quite hose of my own existence. I just don’t get any of it. At all. None of it. I don’t know if I’m talented or if that is even something I need to be at all. Do I? Is anyone? Does that even exist? I don’t know. I’m figuring all of that out. But I so want to be talented. I just dont’ know why. I want other things too. So does everyone else. But is it just that they really want talent? They really want to matter?
I really want to matter. I want to matter. I want to be needed. I want a lot. And a little. I just want is all it comes down to, I guess. I want. I dont’ have. I don’t need. Maybe I do have. I have all I need and it isn’t enough. I want. I want more. Because my needs just dont’ fulfill me. Not only do they not fulfill me, but they the more satisfied I am, the more I want. The less I need. The more I want. When needs aren’t met, I want less.
Hmmm, very interesting.