Untangling The Web We Weave

I always notice when the bells go offline or get disconnected in any sort of way. Makes me edgy and angry and then I get more irritated by wasting energy on things beyond my control so I look for ways to center myself.

Giving directions, suggestions and information about touring places in my home state and home town makes me smile and creates a bittersweet sort of longing cuz untangling the web we weave ain’t easy.

So I keep playing and replaying this song while I write because it touches the deep and dark places inside and I can’t decide to shed the shackles and write with the sort of reckless abandon I am capable or to play it cool.

Because when I am on my game and the words are flowing freely I can paint the picture that moves you in ways you might not want to be moved because it is too complicated and chaotic.

It reminds me of how often I rub the shackles on my wrists and test the chains that are connected to the walls. Sometimes I think of ripping them from their connections because I know that even if I am not who I once was, I can find him and bring him to the surface again.

But the gypsy ladies always say be careful you don’t get what you asked for and follow it up with what is for you shall n0t go past you.

Singing “I won’t take the easy road….

Again With The Faces, Spaces & Places

Donnie Mac accompanies me again as I stare at pictures of Santa Barbara, San Diego and Home.

The younger Mr. Wilner doesn’t want to refer to Texas as home and asks how I can turn my back on Los Angeles. I tell him it is always Home with a capital H and that where I lay my head to sleep is home with a lower case one.

He rolls his eyes at me and I tell him his old man is crazy but we haven’t figured out whether to add like a fox or not.

The tingling from last night is back and so I pop some more pills to take the edge off.

Is it a pinched nerve or something else?

Beats me.

I can manage the discomfort but take the help thinking if it is a pinched nerve it might reduce the swelling and give things a chance to heal…maybe.

The review of places and spaces reminds me of all the spots I haven’t gotten to in LA yet because when you live somewhere you think you have endless time to do stuff.

I have done most of it but missed the space shuttle, battleship and the Reagan museum. Got shpilkes for a moment and thought about buying a ticket to help provide the tour but that would be silly.

Still I checked flights and the local airline has a deal for $282 roundtrip. For a brief moment I am tempted to put the cash out and go.

I can work from anywhere and it would be nice to surprise mom and make another pilgrimage to see dad. Sometimes I feel the absence of his presence in a physical sense and there is this feeling that if I go sit with him it will scratch that itch.

The grandparents and I would have our own time together and we could talk about things they haven’t yet heard but will…assuming that such communication is possible.

This time is so very strange and so unexpected. I had thought that by 50 I would be living a very different life and be far older than I am now.

I had thought that I would be more like the guy that sits on the porch enjoying life and peace of mind instead of chasing ghosts and thinking about jumping on zip lines or skydiving.

It is funny saying those things because I can hear an echo from the past of someone who said they could take better care of me than anyone else.

And inside the echo I hear them ask why I would jump out of a plane.

I could say because I am crazy or because I am the guy who confronts what scares me or leave it at a shoulder shrug. You know the kind you give when you don’t really know why you do or do not do something.

I Hear It Calling Me

I hear it calling me and I will answer because sometimes you jump into the void and learn how to fly.

The sea owns a piece of my heart and I am duty bound to walk upon its shores where the sand can warm my toes and the waves can take me to where I must go.

Those that can keep up shall and those that can’t won’t.

It is a hard time figuring out whether to live as if 50 percent of the allotted time is passed or if there is more. It is just as possible that 85 percent has gone and the candle burning so bright is melting faster than expected.

Can’t say for certain what will be or what won’t. Can’t say who gets to stay and who gets to go, can only say the show is magical.

Into the echoes of the future we run never knowing what hurdles will rise and what doors will close or open. That internal shofar has sounded and there is no turning back.

 

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