Today I’m trying to get something accomplished. What it is—as the song goes—ain’t exactly clear. There’s a man with a gun over there. Tellin’ me I got to be where?! I’m not going over there. No, thank you. I’d rather stay here in my peach pit. And dig. Dig, dig, dig. Until something springs from the well of consciousness. Or is it a stream? This one feels like a well. Definitely a well. Maybe an ocean, with waves, crashing and crashing and I come up for air and oanother wave hits, and I can’t catch my … waves of consciousness.
Then there’s this idea that i’m going to be a great writer. Or a great artist. Or a great singer/performer/director/whatever. Or at least maybe that needs to be part of my life? Maybe that’s what I’m looking for. Am I only playing? Or am I working toward something that will be beautiful one day. The pearl. That’s what I’m going for.
Who else can I be today?