i don’t even have words anymore
for the dark bleeding stuff that coats the shadows of the well’s walls
i knew i had climbed too high
but you could only know that if you looked down right?
so maybe the trick is to never look back.

maybe if i’d gotten more sleep
maybe if i’d gotten more rest
maybe if i’d been painting
maybe if i’d taken a walk
maybe if i’d listened to music
maybe if i’d not gotten into theocratic discussions
maybe if i’d just let him go…
why can’t you just let him go already?

i think i need to lock myself away with a thermos of coffee
or a bottle of wine (or two)
and smokes
serious painting jags always take smokes….
i wish i had the space and time to do so.
i need it.
it’s the only way i have to really assimilate changes
and there’s been a lot of them lately - all good too
but changes are never easy for me
maybe i like being here at the bottom.

sounds like i’m being a wee bit pathetic…