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Good Time
This is a good time for writing; while the computer hums along to the intense spring break highway traffic, and I am sitting in my chair, one numb foot and two puffy eyes.
Last night I had an idea, a dream, of something I can’t quite remember; but it warmed me. It ended the stomach flop. My butterflies were getting restless.
I am not a fan of change, although I expect all things to do so. I like to be stagnant, to wallow in my own puddle of un-moving juices and drown in the weight of my own drama.
It is not a bad thing, being stagnant, it just leaves you behind when your peers (or those you choose to call your peers) are out becoming something you won’t recognize. It is scary to lose a town.
It is scary to lose, so we hold onto things we can’t have. The fear of being second best has been drilled into our heads like the fear of death or disappointment.
Would I rather disappoint or dissolve? I don’t know.
