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.