Tomorrow marks the beginning
of a new journey
in daytime freedom
&
night time slavery
for at least 3 days a week
It's going to be interesting.
For a few minutes it felt like I was moving backwards
but I've let that feeling go
and welcomed the fact
I will be able to reintroduce my skin to the warm rays of the sun
take my dogs on morning walks again to Kensington Cafe
hang out with my freelance friends
make art in the light
have a quiet house to myself
take day trips to daydream
and do yoga
in the
(late)
morning
Change is good
and I will embrace it
I needed it
yipppppeeeee
do I need to tell the Universe I'm happy
or does it already feel it?
registration [ˌrɛdʒɪˈstreɪʃən]
n
1. (Military / Firearms, Gunnery, Ordnance & Artillery) (Engineering / Mechanical Engineering) (Communication Arts / Printing, Lithography & Bookbinding) (Electronics & Computer Science / Communications & Information)
a. the act of registering or state of being registered
b. (as modifier) a registration number
2. an entry in a register
3. a group of people, such as students, who register at a particular time
4. (Music, other) a combination of organ or harpsichord stops used in the performance of a piece of music
or
To Line Up
Align
I am grateful.
"For all the reasons that you might draw someone into your life . . . one would never be to find their faults."
It's been 12 weeks since I actually knew what week I was on.
It's also been 9 months since the beginning.
sitting in front of this screen trying
to figure out where to start with this one
these past three months
I've been easily
sidetracked.
didn't lose sight
of where I'm going
but allowing
the direction I'm heading
a few detours
never a setback.
I have
painted
created
drank too much
but I haven't smoked a cigarette in 4 months
still doing yoga nearly daily (and challenges no less - even surprised myself with a double today, on Christmas)
I'm proud of my
self
but in truth
I still catch thoughts of doubt
thoughts of regret
thoughts of fear
behind my eyes
but I let them go
drawn in by
definitions
manuals
tattoos
sparks
wit
stupid shit
songwriters
writing in ink
spilled paints
misguided words
hurt feelings
Music on, I catch some lyrics that make my eyes well up
the thoughts drift
try to decipher what he means
what's the story.
Who really knows from just a few sentences
creation of a flawless other
expectations
wants
desires
no way to really know
just because I feel it
doesn't mean it's real
that's what they say.
too scared to ask
for fear of what I might hear
then that would be real
and the excitement is often in the anticipation
in the wondering
in the worry
it holds me hostage
and sets me free all the same
no sense
all sense
It's a fantasy
of the mind
Where does one start with this mess
It's what generally happens when I don't keep up.
Do I really want a tidy box for me to fit in?
Would there be more happiness there
than I can create within
the piles
grow higher
more unruly
move from one corner
treasures undercover
to another
hidden
space
in a few days
it will have been a year
and the change has not extended
beyond my
self.
stacking
piles on piles
a brief moment
of clarity
only to be spoiled in minutes
with the next mess
Calm in chaos
always felt safer here
clear
alone with just these words
I am grateful.
for it all.
every moment.
I mean it.
Happy Birthday Baby Jesus.
