“A story only matters, I suspect, to the extent that the people in the story change.” ~ Neil Gaiman
Have you ever been in a spot where people around you, even if only a few, wouldn’t let you change? It gets confusing here so bear with me. Maybe what I mean is that they can’t see a change in you so they go on believing that you are still the same. So did you really change? Are they right and you wrong? Does it really matter? If that friggin tree fell in the forest and bonked a chipmunk on the noggin does anybody hear? The chipmunk lived, by the way. It was only a scratch. This is cartoon violence we are talking about – and this is because my own life has become cartoonish, as far as I can see. So, that’s why I have turned to angels to help me with this passage. Although chipmunks would be fun advisors as well.
The sky is going pale as sunrise grows nearer. From the looks of my hair I slept peacefully. I can’t get my head around that. My mind has been playing host to seemingly insoluble problems. Why so calm? Could be exhaustion, I suppose. The truth is that I just don’t know, and that, to me, is not a problem. From within my rather gnarly self-reflection I remind myself that I will be in the good company of a dog in a few days. Dogs are much like chipmunks in that they make me smile. I know from my work at the animal shelter that dogs are really quite special. So, who’s the dog? I’ll be house-sitting for my ex in a few days. That explains the dog. His name is Mr. Sky, a rat terrier. I’m grateful for his company. Going back to my old residence always reminds me of the painful split that sent me packing. Ouch. It still haunts me each time I go. Poor me. It’ll be good, I suppose. I’ll be able to porch sit and watch the mountains sit still, from the position of an outstanding landscape view. My problem will still be here. What is it with that anyway? Well, I’m 60 years old and I don’t have anywhere to go. My job is pretty much my whole life. That and the cat. I’ve grown weary, I suppose. That would explain it.
“What is straight? A line can be straight, or a street, but the human heart, oh, no, it’s curved like a road through mountains.” ~ Tennessee Williams
I think I will leave it at that, before I fall into the deep chasm of self-analysis. Trust me, I’m just tired, that’s all. And that too shall change. I hope my friends can see that when it happens. That way we can avoid further confusion.
Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.