Scattered.

The older we get, the more memories we accumulate.
Mixed emotions surface now and then as I approach this new crossroad.
Every month is a transition. I can't wait for stability.
And I want to lean on something. But it's like a kid trying to sleep in a moving car. At some point the driver will stop, "everybody out." Temporary fix.
Relax? Every moment seems more amazing (and unsure) than the last. Maybe because I realize everything I have is at the mercy of one small fire, car accident, the wrong phone call, and so on.
Our lives are so fragile, and yet we spend it doing nothing. I've been harping on that thought lately. Little ants in the field. Turned on automatic. Scurrying into nothing. But I can't run that way because it's like my brain wasn't built for slavelike progression. If you can be placated by the basics of this society, be prepared for the brick wall that follows. I just want to live and learn, with guidance from others, but in the way people were intended. Not just proletariats following orders. School. Work. Pro-Create. Dance. Sleep. Take your medication. Repeat. Play the stereotype. Put on that wig. That mask. That facade.
I am carefully making my next move into the right spaces. Is it safe to say I'm on the right path? I'm not sure today. Distractions. Right from wrong is not as black and white as we all pretend it is.
I want to lean on my spiritual knowledge, head knowledge, and ingenuity.
But the direction is not clear. I'm my own cartographer, but the direction changes all the time. I am left feeling desolate. I attempt to intellectualize the present and come out feeling more curious and bamboozled than before I began.
Sometimes the best move we can make is to stand still. Listen. Running with no perspective and you may as well be running in circles. I love you. I love...the word itself, and how my thoughts jump heavy as I type this. With each day comes a new realization. As my aunt says,

"The closer I get to the grave, the more life is revealed to me."

2:03 AM. Feeling brand new,

Like fresh out the box brand new.
Like clean cotton sheets against just showered mocha.
Like fresh electrical wiring, blue and red intertwined, winding round and round. Coiled perfectly.
Eyes turned inside out.
I'm melting into somewhere new.

Skin clings to flesh like velcro bending backwards.
The melody makes me gyrate my hips in a way that I can't control.
Sweat trickles. Breath moist and heavy.
Eyelids open. Close.
Betwixt and between the interchanging glances, I can see something really ...primal. Intuitive dereliction.
That thigh strokes me and I pretend I don't feel a thing when inside my body is screaming somehow. In a quiet way. Forget we ever met. Sounds promising. But hard when I've never been able to run away for long.

Show me the light, the truth, and the way.

Rippling sound waves play on me. Rhythms so deep I can't keep hold onto anything but the music notes. It's okay if you can't go deeper with me daddy-o. I know which way to go after we find ourselves bored of nessling in one another's arms. Thanks for the good time. I just left my empty glass of wine, tipped over on your hard wood floor. Bite down hard and say it ain't so. It gets me every time.