You know I want to write to you, but I don't know what to say. For the first time, I feel like there is a constipation in my voice. For lack of a better word - a block. I am tap tapping on these keys in hopes that something will arise if I just apply this verbal lubricant - the oil.
Part of it is that I have realized that there is no current venue from which to write where I do not have my back exposed. For instance, mark can meander up on my at the home base and boss can wander up behind at the work base. I feel like a visitor in every locale. I am unsettled. I am bloated. My chi is stagnant.
Topic #1: Falsehoods --- I have no bullshit detector. You can tell me anything, and I would believe you. I think it is called gullible. When I start thinking I'm lied to, I begin to panic. It's strange because although I'm as forthcoming as a gusher, I do lie. When I am backed against a wall and forced to either lie or hurt you, I will lie. I am working on this. It is a bad habit like cigarette smoking. Integrity of word baby. Integrity of word. Of course, in a whole other way - I never lie. I only lie to those who love me.
Topic #2: sun --- It's sunny here. I have taken to sitting on some apartment lawn during lunch. Today, I was fucked up and just blobbed. A homeless man called me a gorgeous redhead. Beauty. Doesn't do it. Does do it.
Topic #3: duality --- Perhaps that is my problem is that I feel both sides today. I don't have it integrated, but I feel both. I love you. I am un-in love with you. I feel lucky. I feel tired.