Today, without a doubt, best in a while, woke up easily, drank coffee, talked to girlfriend, stability

processing power, delays, high octane fury, filtered through a glorious glass hole, gaze and wonder with me, I'm somewhere that seems to be..further away, it was all allowed to happen, I took control of it, or I let it go?  Honestly that thought perplexes me, I don't know, a whirl wind I'm on a spaceship, reading to roosters, letting them give their crow,, allowing them to breath in deeply and cough where needed, its connecting on a stream, and the stream is nice and easy, It understands what it has control over and what it doesn't, and I'm giving in

or maybe that isn't what is happening, the mind can be deceiving, if all this time spent with work would merit that the work be good, I wouldn't have a problem at all

but work must turn out to be decent work, so on we trudge, a walk of desperate, terrifying shame, humility, plays with modesty.  To appreciate art is one, but to identify is another, seeped in a cauldron of subjectivitities, no more like miccrochorsims, exploring their own roots deeply chaotic, deeply beyond, anything, I, understand.....


this is the stage where I am allowed to write poems about being a poet, because I am a young poet