so let me sit here for awhile- longer- to figure out to ponder- how to redo the past to undo the done and so frozen watching the footage over and over always the same ending but expecting a new one
notes… I know I am my own worst enemy… how do I battle myself, when I know myself so well.. perhaps that is true of us all… I try, I fail… but I know, I know I can try harder… so why don’t I? I know the clock is ticking, I fear it…. I know it… our lives are so finite and short… and we never know what is around the next corner, I am near the fifty year mark but still don’t live like tomorrow is the end.. I should, I know I should, “I should”… maybe that will be on my gravestone if I opt for one.. to mark a spot,.. but why bother… who will come.
‘cubicle’ an interrogation of flies- I sit at my desk cigarette, half cocked, not lit ashtrays, ashtrays are long gone my friend papers, semi-arranged, by year, by slot, desktop or what the cat lady dragged in- priorities rise and fall like a tide always coming in, always high tide I would like to think I made something of a life wife, kids, but no, here I am, here I am in this- this prison to pension, this desk.
notes… in my mind this is double edged, I pictured an old tortured soul sitting behind a desk somewhere in the 70s with stacks of things on all corners, almost a hoarder situation, kind of a noir comic vibe, I don’t smoke, never did, but that vibe, the angry, gritty, smoker stuck in a corner with no smokes, ashtray an anachronism laughing, ending a life where you fought so hard for truth and found naught… just what was in my head when I wrote this. oh, and yeah, in a way reflective of me, in my newish shiny office, I have a window, and that makes me the happiest performing animal in the zoo I call my office home…