I made a protein shake. Took my daily vitamin. I’m looking for a cornucopia of activity, just riveting stuff. Brain crossed on whether the position should focus on mind, body, or spirit. Some tai chi would be nice to stretch a bit. Meditation to clear my busy, yet mind-numbed mind. I would like to read something I’ve never read before. In my own work towards my work, I was perusing some other writers. Our own variable sort of fame and notoriety and my mind gathers. Clues, hints, any context so I can figure out if success is within my grasp. As if these familiarities, will bring me to some conclusion that if someone else is doing my thing, then why can’t I do my thing and make the splash in the pool I’m looking for. With enough for drinks to celebrate. Then I look at my books. I started secondhand resourcing many awhile back until I needed a second bookcase (again) and that one ended in being filled up too. Maybe if I peruse the greats, I’ll get a little festering interest in my own special moves I can hone.
Biggie plays on in the background, and I am bullshitting my own party. Let this be a ramble. Maybe that something new I was looking for?
I think a part of me misses out focusing on poems and prose, with the occasional haiku. (let it be known, I fucking love haikus.) Sometimes the other part of me wants to express myself. The person that can ramble and make many neurodivergent, ramped up on the chemistry of caffeine and nicotine, observations that can only spin a person’s brain so much I leave them looking for records. A player. That’s what I’m saying here I’m a player playing a game and risk is involved and it’s based off individual stats and a progression where I don’t know where the fuck it starts.
The Game is called Creativity.
And I’m lost in old songs, knowing I’m bantering as I type away at too-old keys that stick and remind me of some of my past trials and failures. Good failures; yes, there is such a thing.
I’m back chasing the same dream, and these sticky keys that once failed me.
Need an Upgrade.
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