I'm idle and buzzing through time now. Mostly neutral energy.Mostly.

Ambitions and no motivation.A beat in my ears and I'm stuck in the past.

Talk a lot to the future.

Been back and forth to the north, to the north.

To the east.

I'm idle and buzzing though time now, see.
Now you ask for words on the things I've seen.
Well truth be told dear my life is on hold here.
Expression halted. Stuckkkkkkk. Shucks.

My heart is still on the move, can't stop forward motion.
But darling my voice is far behind.
Though not misplaced.

I hope.

Just far behind.

All I know is I stood silent to the north atlantic waves.

Considering surrender.

You know that power.

So maybe something moved in me.
But not visual, not verbal.
Maybe seeds planted? Seeds swallowed? Germinating.
They'll sprout out my eyes and my throat for you.
That must be it.

I'm idle and buzzing through time now. Mostly neutral energy.
Ambitions and no motivation.

But somthing is shifting, I could sweat. I could sweat? Sweet?
I could swear.

So I've neglected this place in my mind, in my mind for awhile.
But I guess I'm ready to come back since it's time for things to change again.
schedules break down organically and that's what I long for but damn, that's what I'll miss.
I've been thinking about becoming a night owl and they asked me to join.
But i think I might just decline.
Making rainbows will better anyway.
And then I'll fly away.

Not to long ago I visited 1917 and those boys were brave.
The air as still, my breath was cold and no bullets were fired cause, well I paused time. Just to see what it was like.

who reads this?

I am curling my hair just to see and thinking about becoming a talkshow host who broadcasts from mystery places from the arctic i think it would be a hit it would just be me raising such important issues as whos labia would be best to live on currently i could call elvis costello or maybe one of the people from that scottish group who did the terry fox song that was on benny and joon call them my brothers yeah i even have glasses i can blaance an curling iron on my head and type yet another thing to amuse my adoring fans with when i am an imfamous talk show host.

I gave away my journal. I kept it for three years. I would rip out pages, scratch out and paste over everything I wrote. So self critical. Then I finally gave it away as a gift. To a friend, to remember me by. Now, a year later, i wonder where it's been.Has it been abandoned along the way? I almost hope so. And I hope that someone else owns it now and reads all those thoughts and wonders. Do I ask or keep it a mystery?

A dilemma. I suppose I only care because I have nothing better to do right now.

I think I might write fake journals and leave them places. That will be my new hobby.