Have you ever felt that incredible angst when you just want to do something?
If you could just go back in time, even change the molecules in a cell. I’m barely making sense here. It’s late.
Last weekend, M and I drove out to hang out with Jim and his sweet kids. He was as gracious — and silly — as ever. We bopped around to a couple of garage sales — and Jim even ended up with this huge penguin. Leave it to Jim to walk away with this penguin for FREE.
But yesterday, Jim sent me a text to say that he was on his way to the hospital. He was having trouble breathing. Hours later, and he calls, coughing, saying there’s been fluid build-up.
C’mon docs, do something. Please. Or, as Jim recently wrote on his blog:
“If the universe hands me bullshit, I have every right to slap the universe in the cheek with a cold dead fish.
“F*** You, Universe! You think you know what is going to happen? Well watch this!”
In the meantime, please visit Depot Dad’s blog. Email him. Cheer him on.
I’ve been reading poetry tonight, trying to send some good vibes over the hill. Following the Road, by Larry Smith, has me tonight.
“….I don’t know what to say
to any of this-Life’s hard.
And I say it aloud to myself,
Living is hard, and drive further
into the darkness, my headlights
only going so far.
I sense my own tense breath, this fear
we call stress, making it something else,
hiding from all that is real.
As I glide past Twin Lakes,
flat bodies of water under stars,
I hold the wheel gently, slowing my
body to the road, and know again that
this is just living, not a trauma
nor dying, but a lingering pain
reminding us that we are alive.”
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