alien slug

for all the thinking i do about emotions, people and the reasons why we do what we do i am no closer to discovering an answer then i was the day i was born.  i was actually closer to it the very day i shot out of the womb into a cold and cruel world all mucous eyed and screamy for at that moment i had no idea what was going to happen next and it didn’t matter.  i didn’t spend hours pondering how i was going to fix this discomfort of being naked, wet, hungry and recently evicted from my home.  i just yelled and the universe provided.

life seems to be so much easier when i don’t think myself into a hole.

there are those rare times when, without any real conscious thought, everything disappears except my authentic self and for a brief shining moment i can open my mouth and talk about the things that plague me without any real fear. because it doesn’t matter.  there is nothing wrong with me.

you were once covered in schmutz like a tiny alien baby slug too.

my friends came over sunday night to make dinner and we ate, laughed, shoved each other around and watched stupid cake challenges on the food network.

when they left and i crawled into a clean bed and fell asleep with sufjan stevens playing and dreamt about fonts getting married inside kangaroo pouches that blasted eddy grant and whoever sang funky town.

it’s still raining and i’m still swimming knee deep in butternut squash soup, riding this tide out til the end of the season.

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