Following the Glow of the Street

Excuse me, while I kiss the sky.

Jimi Hendrix. Wow. Where was he? Was he that stoned that he could come up with lyrics like that? That's the aim of a writer. To write so as to touch the mind. I'm constantly trying to learn. I'm constantly looking for new ways to improve. One is a friend of mine in Florida that I met through another friend over the Internet. For a long time we had never seen each other or heard each other's voice, but her wisdom is unmistakable. She guides me along daily, and I am enthralled with her words. Just like Jimi Hendrix.

"its hard to find a balance between the inner life and the outer life, being too busy, being too passive, reaching for what you want, hiding from what you want, taking advantage of opportunities, letting them pass you by. and to think, life is so damn short! that it makes one want to cry to think about the angst, when really we should be counting our f--ing blessings day in and day out: running water, legs that walk, lungs that breathe,"

She is so insightful that I hang on her every word sometimes. It's gotten me through some chop I have to say. I'm calling her my Guru, because, basically that's what she is. I read an email by her today, and I wrote her back and went straight off to work on my Novel. I spent last night, up to three in the morning, sending out my resume to prospective employers for job positions in the telecommunications field. I had my appointment to see my therapist today but I just did not feel like sitting around and operating on my skull. I just wasn't in the mood. Rather I was in the mood to write. I'm strictly in the mood to write and not to worry about my future and where it is headed.

"You might as well just live now, and be cheerful and happy now, and take walks in your flip flops now, and write more poetry now, and dream more dreams now, and to hell with the imagined future, even to hell with the imagined past. now is the only thing, and each breath we take... inhale...ah, is what we take in, and each breath we inhale - ah - is what we give back."

I of course do not get back any responses from my resumes, but it's too soon to tell anyway. I'm busy with the Carlyle brothers and nearing page 1,100. This is another milestone for me. It makes me feel good, because it was my aim all along to reach 1,500. It looks like this book will get close.

Why 1,500 as a goal? Oh I don't know. I just never thought that I could think up a story with a story line so long and intricate so as not to be boring. This happened to be it. Now it's time to tie it all up and I'm kind of taking my time. I just don't know where I want to go with it. A fantastic slam, bam ending, or a more cerebral ending, like the entire book has been.

Whatever.

Otherwise I groused. I wondered about the changing of the season, and how many of us homeless that are still in the streets are wondering about where they are going to go when it gets too cold to be outside. The party is now over. Another winter is rushing upon them. My heart goes out to them. I wonder if I could join the Q somewhere and hand out food and clothes and go looking for them? I wonder if such a thing is possible? That would be a good use of time. Giving back. I'm going to look into it.

Otherwise, I groused. I blew off my therapist today. Just ran right past my hour with her and didn't even email. I'm a shut in, that's what I do. I wish I could hop up and leave anytime that I want to, but I don't want to. I want to stay within these four walls. They feel like protection. They feel like home. I've told you about this before. From not having to having. It feels good. I'm afraid, sometimes, that they will be taken away, and then where will I be. Back on the streets, worried about the changing seasons.

I am saddened over the fact that I have to live like this though, like I am. In fear all the time. In fear of being turned back out onto the streets, in fear of being outside of these four walls for protection, in fear of the world outside. I would like a better life. I'm hoping on finding one, as soon as I can.

Finding a life. That sounds funny. It's as if life is a lost ring in a field, or a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.

Go find a life.

ha ha ha ha

Hobobob