Progress was made yesterday, despite the appearance of chaos when unlocking my door. Returning from work little more than an hour ago, suspicions were confirmed. The recent rain made a less than modest puddle on the kitchen floor.
I need the fuck out of this place.
And I go, once the worthiness of possessions is determined and transported. Not to the next place. Not yet. That is still a mystery regarding the exacts. Instead, I dance in limbo. Or sit in the corner with my arms folded in limbo. It’s a moment to moment decision.
But I said all that last week. I think. I don’t read these things, you know.
I could feel the stink of serenity this morning. Strangely enough, as I was woken by an abrupt alarm not of my own making and had to immediately head to a casino. But over the boom of early morning diesel engines, the sun crept up beyond the hazed horizon. Lots of orange, I recall.
And although I am stuck on the inside part of these walls for much of the day, the vernal air will be forced through these windows and doors as best as can be mustered. This sinking ship of a basement apartment. The home of my loneliest woes. The fermented stew of pointless pity still lingers. Best get it out of here. Then away from my senses. Forever, me thinks. Me hopes.
I wonder if the things I thought would be with me forever are just on the edge of fading. And whether that which takes place now will survive or be lost as well. And if that which has yet to happen comes to be, will it seem like anything at all?
It might be relief, just a bit, that I am beginning to feel. I suppose the surroundings were having more of an effect than I was willing to give credit towards. Might be the weather too.
When I moved into this place, ‘twas to be the first step towards what I believed would be the glory days. I was to be hip. A world traveler. And when not bouncing around the Earth on little more than whims, I would find root in the happenings of the city that fostered my very existence. Right at the center of where everyone wanted to be. Be who all the young dudes wanted to be.
That is not what ended up happening. Not in line with the preconceived fantasy. Thank the universe that it did not. The depth is further with this life I wield now. And where I may have been all used up had the dreamt up had come to be- I now know I am only just beginning.
And getting out of this godforsaken hobbit-hell-hole is the next step. The current step, really. Just a longer step than most movements.
It has been easy for my anger to stir up over what most might consider to be very little. And I don’t generally see myself as unjustified, yet often still unsatisfied. Because the complaints of what is do not solve much. They solve nothing at all. Empty words where action need be done. Not grandiose or like that either. The subtle, yet proper action holds weight far more than something over the top for the sake of attempting to register its own existence.
But I shall not abandon the anger. Not entirely. It is a tool, lest we forget. As is sadness. As is fear and love and empathy. All tools (or weapons, if that’s the way you choose to see the world).
Like I tell my daughter, and so I try to live- you control your emotions. Do not let your emotions control you.
It is an effort, but I get better with each attempt.
I really should be getting back though. There is still more work to be done and all before the big television spectacle this evening.