The Mill

The Bar.

“What’s up stoopid.”

Tara sat down across from me, her brown hair blocking the clock on the church across the street. Fortunately , part of the sun as well.

“What is that brain working on now? Who brings a book to a bar anyway?”

I stared. what do you want Tara?

I had to admit, it felt weird coming back home…the mills closed. Empty buildings, like coffins, waiting for their dead or a hotel with empty floors…just shadows of memory.

Tara smiled, lit a cigarette,

You know, you have to be 21 now.

Hey, we‘re all older.

She laughed.

I closed my book.

Asking myself why I came back home…but I really, already knew.

Maybe that was what bothered me.

Tara hadn’t changed that much. She had a way of moving through the weights and the hard moments. Seemingly unscathed.

I was not so lucky.

I took a breath. Feeling flashes of my childhood walking past me in the street.

Yellow Room (haunted October)

It was raining sideways

The night I died

I remember

The basement

Built above ground

The concrete floors

The open walls

The cold

The 45 acres of woods

Black bears

And deer

Eating

The curly horned monster

Wandered the woods

Only when the fog came out

They said he gathered up children

And brought them back to his house in the woods …

His raven flew ahead and spotted his catch …

The night I died

The waters rose in the creek

A tornado climbed the mountain

The curly horned monster

Stood in the pasture

A wide eyed owl

Sat outside my window

All night

Staring at me

Beside the yellow room…

I heard the witch

Walking in the hall

Her laughter

As she smiled

In the corner of the room…

The Winter

The good the bad and the in-between. We can’t be up all the time and we won’t be down either.

I wonder, how many years I’ve lived with myself and if I ever let myself see myself.

I wonder how we slave away and put health on the side, when without health, nothing else is ever attainable sustainable.

How many people have I known, who are here Monday and gone Thursday…and we never prepare…

We are so bold and so demanding of our time and place in the universe…that we are taking up space rather than sharing space…

I just want to sleep and I just want to live like fluid

Observing and knowing

And I want to leave you better than I met you…

So many of us put away our core

In the attic with our dreams

And our peace

And we pretend and live quiet lives of discontent

And we hope one day

Some day

We will forget

What it was like to share space

With someone

Who burns at the same temp as you

And what it was like to be at peace

Know you were understood even when you said nothing…

I know I can’t change the world

I know

I just want to be able to live in it.

The one about survival

You know the question

“If you were on a island what would you want with you…”

And some guy always says a “fork, spork”

Yada yada and a reader wants a book and someone else wants the will to live and it goes on and on…

I would want the guy that discovered you could get milk from almonds.

That’s my kind of survival. I mean, I couldn’t drink it. But that’s not the point.

Think about what kind of person looks at an almond, or rice, or grain and says….you know, I bet I could drink that.

And then someone else yells out

Yeah well, what can you do with this potato…

And bam

That’s where the vices really started.

Seriously though, that’s my kind of thinking

I don’t want to be the guy that’s under it all the time. Unable to get ahead or stay positive.

Let’s plan ahead and set a goal. Let’s get out there and stop complaining and just start focusing on the details. The small things. Our interactions with people.

I like to think it all adds up. Maybe that’s what makes a life or a week.

We live for the weekend

But maybe, just maybe…

Even with all my flare ups getting tossed around like flags at a football game…

Maybe we can have that kind of resilience and really keep moving forward, ultimately making progress in the end.

It’s ok to be down

Just don’t stay there.

Writers Log #22

I’m currently

Spending the week

In a quiet retreat

To write and study Master Class.

I’m hoping to put some really new thoughts

Down…

We will see…

—-

I don’t think I’m going to ask anything of 2020

I don’t want to make a list against myself or God or the universe…

I’m going to keep the same goals

The details

The consistency

Less processed foods

Less drinking

Gym

Water

Meditate

It’s in the details….

I’ve been writing more

And I’m getting a book published

So I’m working on more manuscripts

I’ve been learning music

So I will probably stay with that…

I’m not going to tell you what to do…

But if you’re not going to give yourself your best

What’s the point

Why love everyone else more

Or expect anything from a year

Or prime ….

Keep it together

And see where you are

How far you’ve come

It might feel the same

But when you look back

You ran it well

Shine a light

It’s the universe pulling you together

It’s there in the growing

You know, you’re going to be fine.

What else is there?