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At this point, every paragraph that i've written over the past few hours has dissolved as fast as it was written. Thoughts, anxieties, rages, indignities like so much gravel tossed in a cerebral cement-mixer. It's just getting nowhere, and without a map. Chaotic to the point that nothing's getting done. Unable to communicate with a soul. That's the caption for this weekend past. The faster i keep running on this wheel in the hamster cage, the less is resolved. Talents and wild ideas forgotten in the mad rush to make sense of it all and find direction. Yet, when i find a way to take a breath, i can see glimpses. From those wild ideas can come paths unrecognized. Forces beyond my control made sure that i wouldn't get to work on time, today. As if i really gave a shit. Gassing up the Swedish hoopty, i spied an acquaintance... a friend of a departed friend. We chatted as people sped past... the about music that motivates us and opens our minds, fires our imaginations... just as Dave was instigating, all along. The different drum. Finding a suitable rhythm is the only way to get off of this not-so-merry-go-round. My partial cure... to find a change of scenery. Even if it is all too familiar. Yes, the beach will be my prescription. Meager savings be damned, i'm going to the ocean next week. Yes, it will probably be the same old shit with the same cast... there's got to be some break from this monotony. So, Miss Jane will follow her daughter to the shore. I'll show up, a couple of days later... and leave early. Solo rides there and back. Maybe the road will have something to tell me. And i can slip the latch on this cage. |
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