I’m being asked to write poetry and it is, honestly, refreshing. Poetry is emotion and I’ve been experiencing a lot of that lately–largely in the forms of stress and disappointment, though not only that. Today was a tough one for me. One of my kids was eating my favorite cereal, which is fine, but he’d been eating the boxes of cereal to the point where I haven’t had a chance to even get a single bowl. I asked, ‘What happened to the cereal” and he said nothing. So, when I saw that he was the one doing it I was a bit miffed that he was doing it and not owning the action. That isn’t okay. So, I have to go back to the point of preserving the things I want to make sure I have by hiding them… in my own kitchen. You might think I ought to say, “hey, don’t eat that,” and that is a realistic option, but the thing is I am not trying to create more negative energy and more of the feeling for everyone else of stuff being off limits. What I want is for people to ask. Hard to tell a 25 yr old to do anything, let alone show manners. It’s a flaw of the generation and a flaw of the age in general over time.
So, here I am stashing cups of food throughout my own kitchen like a thief or a hoarder. It is a shit way to live, but there are a ton of things I do and a lot of shit I swallow to make it chill for everyone else. Normally, it isn’t even worth sharing, but I’m not grounded yet. I’ve spent a few months trying to get there and being repeatedly shown that I am living inside of other people’s realities and butting up against the habits formed while away. It will be another month or so before I am settled in my own space and by then it won’t be long before I am off again on another summer adventure and need to start the process all over again.
That’s a lot to think about and a lot more to deal with. I’m doing my best.
Some Thoughts:
- Life is still good, actually. In spite of how this dang blog sounds so often…