Every time I leave I take something with.
A mystery, a trinket, a bauble, a switch.
I wonder how much longer until he takes notice of this.
Don't you ever give up the Wonder you get when driving up and down this mountain.
Hiding away is not the same as running away.
Be the full version of you. No filters no barriers no blues.
A woman standing in line recites her phone number to the checker for the rewards. I wrote it down, tempted to call her up for a chat.
I can be silly like that.
I danced around my house naked last night. Rituals and communions and rites.
When I was a kid we went to pow-wows. They even let us dance, which is unusual I think.
I wished I had a headdress and wings. Become a bird and flit and fly.
Repetition is a creature of habit.
Mind, body, soul are feasted and ready to be rested.
I'm sweating regularly. Wiping it from my armpits at the heat of the day, running down my ribs.
Back to eating raw meat dipped in salt. Drinking water with salt. No longer stressing about fainting and fall.
Typing from my bathtub in the yard in the dark.
The universe will push you out of the nest when it thinks you're ready.
One of my neighbors smells like old family. Cigarette smoke wafting over casually.
Better than the cat pee guy, barely.
I burned some passiflora cuttings, carelessly forgot them in the sun.
Lucille and Felipe are doing wonderfully.
I talk to all the things. The flowers and birds and lizards. The frog climbing out of the drain.
The house, the furniture, the ladder I wrestled with.
I talk to the sky and sun and clouds and rocks.
I want them all to talk back and feel we're one.
“Keep an eye out for me. Keep me safe. Keep me sane (sorta.. unless it's the creative crazies!). Keep me cozy.”
I have so much caulking to do.
If there weren't mountain lions I'd sleep with the front door open.
Tomorrow I'll start writing again.