I made a bomb chicken & cheese omelet yesterday. I ji’ want one now, but I don’t feel like making one. So, anyway, I haven’t written any new poetry in who knows how long, and I’m cool with that. I’ve been writin’ some rhymes here and there, but not too heavy on that side either. Haven’t really been doing the drawing thing, or writing songs… Haven’t sculpted or painted in forever. Hell, I did take some pictures, but I was drinking, too because it was a barbecue, so that doesn’t count. Which leads me to ask: What the hell am I doing? Artistically I mean?
It kinda feels like I’m just existing right now. Like there’s this huge disconnect, and if I do something really minor, the flood gates will open. Problem is, I don’t know what that minor thing is. Things just seem so routine and chaotic at the same time. I find that I’m freestyling a lot more when I drive, but I don’t write down any of those rhymes too much. Honestly, it feels like I’m losing touch with myself. What makes me me. What God made me. Not scared by that, just in this stupefied trance is all. Waiting to snap out of it. I’ve learned a lot this year. Gained some simple life lessons that everyone can benefit from, but nobody really wants to listen. Sucks being a salesman with a great product that everyone feels is too good to be true. Anywho, I will say to you that I’m trying to get back to me. I am looking for that piece of peace that I find suspended in time between paper and rhyme. First things first, though…I need to wrap up some loose ends. Because this…this will never do. And life is too long to live it without purpose or direction or fill in the blank. I know I’m almost there…kinda like that last click on the roller coaster tracks before the freefall…just trying to be impatient and hurry things along. I know this seems cryptic, but, this is my journal…as long as I can look back and make sense of it…I’ll know that this wasn’t in vain either. Hmph. I’ll see ya’ll…
Ee-Zee
