on frustrations

since when did 68.4 kilometers become so far?

In Defense of the Canis lupus

I was born into the fold of black sheep.
Therefore, I believe I am allotted at least one major pitfall or setback in the next few years.
I have yet to cash in my token, but believe me, I am sure getting antsy.

Baa.

on losing, pt ii.

I don't so much mind that we are estranged,
that we never write,
or talk: never swapping stories over tin-can-phone-strings.

I don't mind so much that you are older,
that your job consumes time,
makes money: some thing I have yet to manage wisely.

I do mind that in the span of less than five years,
I have forgotten to call you my brother,
and friend: and in so doing never quite manage to grasp
sister
as tightly.

a parting thought.

"I bend my arrows now in circles & I shoot around the hill
If I don't get you in the morning, by the evening I sure will.
By the evening, I sure will."

re: feral cats

I guess I haven`t been giving myself much space or time to write lately. Mostly, I have been occupied with observations about people and animals and interactions. I am trying to have more grace with all these things.
Like some days this tattoo still looks very dark on my wrist, even though I can't remember the artist's name, I have d to remind me. And some times my heart feels very heavy, even though I really didn't know you that well.
I suppose it is recognizing that I am no better and no less than my neighbor, even if I do like walking dogs. And that it is okay to communicate slowly and more thoughtfully than some one else may think is normal.
I cannot speak for you or your family, animals, or friends. So I speak for myself when I say that if there was only one thing I could do infinitely well for the rest of my human existence, it would be to live with too much grace.
Yes, I am a cynic on many levels. But, I can still try!

on naming things.

I spent the better half of the past two weeks transporting my self around town by any means other than Jetta. Jetta was spending some well deserved vacation time, housed in a garage, having her insides examined and receiving new organs as needed. I spent the majority of that time either begging rides off of e, or riding my bicycle from point a to point b. Let me tell you some thing about bicycles. There are a few different kinds; mountain, road, hybrid, commuter, to name a few. Giant is a sort of crossover, not purebred, but some mix of the above. I have had this lofty notion in my head for several months now that I will soon be trading in Giant for a SSS (sweet, sleek, sexy) Bianchi. Though we have never met, Bianchi and I will be good for each other. Sometimes a girl just knows these things.
And so I faithfully rode my Giant up and down the coastal highway two and three times a day, convincing myself that if I am "still riding this old thing!" (after a year?!), that probably means I will be the perfect candidate for Bianchi in the near future. (I can barely feel its weight as I sling the frame over my shoulder and climb the stairs to my apartment...)
Alas, I am brought back to reality as I lug Giant's deadweight up to the safety of our second-floor balcony.

on ever

I wish he could just say, "This is the way. Now walk in it."