"WAITING FOR KARMA"

(a.k.a. "VITRIOL" - don't say I didn't warn you!)

I'm probably already sorry I asked, you idiot!

     Is it OK to hate everything?  I mean, will it screw up my Karma or something? 
     Yeah, yeah, I know...

     Being only human has it's drawbacks.  Even though some others insist on seeing me as such, Superwoman I am not.  Actually, I was Superwoman once, or a very convincing facsimile.  Now it's purely an aggravation to be viewed as a person who can accomplish anything and everything, and all alone to boot.  ARRRGGGHHHH!
     Here's the deal - because I remain somewhat competent, in spite of being disabled, I am called upon to help every human being I come into contact with.  It never fails to amaze me that I am more capable while handicapped than "normal" people are.  And it makes me angry, very, very angry.  And there is no outlet for this anger. 
     Day after endless day, I live in physical pain; pain that is sometimes so bad that it becomes impossible to do even the simplest tasks.  You ever been in pain for so long that you've forgotten what no pain feels like?  No?  When all you want is just to be able to sleep, but no sleep is possible because of pain?  I'm talking about days, sometimes weeks on end?  No?  What about continuous pain and lack of sleep that turns your brain into useless mush, aware only of pain?  No?  Can you drive to the store?  Can you wash the dishes?  Can you sit down?  Stand up?  Bathe?  Pee? 
     If the answer is yes, then go to hell.
 
     Yeah, yeah, I know... that's totally unreasonable!  It is not your fault that you have a functioning body and mind!  And it's not your fault that I don't, for God's sake, how can I be so bitter and unreasonable??
     Let me tell you.
     It takes years to get this way, and the reason is not pain and sleeplessness, brain mush, or dirty dishes.  It's disappointment.  Which, as years pass and nothing gets better but gets worse instead, causes a bitterness inside that I spend way too much energy suppressing so I won't hurt YOU.  And all the while, you, actively or passively, are hurting me.  "But, but... how can that be so?, you say.  I'm not doing anything to hurt you!  What are you talking about?"
     Ignorance is bliss, so the wise men say.  And that's when many of you turn away.  Having been unjustly accused, you shake the dust from your sandals and leave.  Go on with you then - get out of my face.  Go to your bliss while I suffer at your ignorance.
 
     Let me add one little item of note before I finish.  Note:  These are the very people that I have helped, oftentimes immensely, from the time before I became disabled right up to and including yesterday.  Befriended, defended, gave money to, housed, clothed, fed, rescued, saved from trouble, terror or ruin... and because I remain somewhat competent, and am not ignorant, I have no bliss?  Go figure.  Then just go away.

     Yeah, yeah, I know.  But is it OK to hate everything? Is it?  PLEASE?  I promise I won't tell anybody.

.

"SIDESHOWS AND CARNIVAL BARKERS"

I've been thinkin' (dangerous in itself) about all the "stuff" swirling around in the news... added to the national weather reports (more disasters all at once and the worst I've seen in years) ... and ya know what I've concluded?  God is mad at us.  Mad at all the liars, fornicators, the bloated selfish, and idiots.  And Republicans.  Oh wait - I already said "Republicans".

Trying to take my mind away from all the crap for a while, I found myself contemplating a different kind of crap from a few years ago; hence this essay from 2006...

"ORDER IN THE UNIVERSE"

11/15/2006

Two days early. They were two days early and I should have known.  Traipsing away like the star-crossed lovers that they are, the newlyweds-to-be took off with a flourish for their wedding cruise, leaving the dogs behind.  Two days early.

Instructions would have been nice; that which seems natural to some may be a mystery to others, me being the other in this case.  Two big dogs and a cat – kitties are no problem, even this one who was purported to be cranky and self-serving – it was the dogs that proved to be my undoing.  Who could know that two dogs and a progressively unhinged human could alter the balance of the Cosmos?

Let me see... today is Wednesday.  The Disgusting Dog Debacle began eleven days ago on a Sunday afternoon, when an unsuspecting me realized that the dogs were at the door, masters in tow, for a reason; i.e. to be transferred into my uninformed and unprepared care.  “Of course I can do this”, says I to myself.  “What could be hard?”  And in truth, it began fairly well.

It boiled down to four trips across the yard per day, where the dogs were staying in a neighboring condo in the condo village where I live.  Open the back patio door, buckle dogs to their leads, let them out to do their duty in the grass.  Close the door with me inside, prepare the food, visit with the cat.  Open the door, command the dogs to “Go!”, close the door and wait.  Visit with the cat.  Rambunctious, muddy dogs blast back in through the door, managing to be vertical and horizontal at the same time.  Food!  Food!

Jet gets fed first, so that he won’t devour King’s food.  King is on a special diet.  More on this later; Jet wants King’s food and visa versa.  Did I mention how big they are?  Strapping black Labs, the both of them; seventy to eighty pounds each.  Jet especially, being young, is simultaneously a cannon ball and a battering ram, crashing into anything and everything including me.  I’m beginning to think that I look like a dog toy, chewed and battered.  I know I feel that way.

When the meal is over (“Eat it!  I mean it!  Finish your dinner, damnit!”), it’s off for another trip to the out-of-doors for that final chance to eliminate before the next period of incarceration begins.  If they are successful, I, poop-bags in hand, must venture out into the cold, wet, and now poopy yard to find the fruits of their mission.  So far so good – gross, but manageable.

Unmanageable began with a rude realization.  Opening the door, I smelled something wrong.  Unbalancing the Cosmos began simply, requiring only diarrhea to initiate the flaming demise of my sanity. 

OK, one day would be understandable.  Especially considering that the “special diet” King was expected to eat had spoiled without my knowledge.  Poor old King – he ate it anyway because he’s so obedient; twice in fact, before I was able to smell what was going on.  Now what to do?  Well, clean, of course.  Clean, clean, clean, help me Jesus, there is crap everywhere and I hate dogs.  And then go home and seethe at the world in general for having delivered this horrible day into my hands.  Fortunately, a friend helped me whip up a new batch of fresh food, and things were looking up.  Three more trips across the yard that day, more of the same and keep cleaning, it’s bound to be better now that the bad food is gone and by the way... did I mention that I’ve had it up to my neck and I hate dogs? 

The next day was better; the diarrhea began to go away in reality, though it had somehow permeated my body and invaded my own inner world.  It was everywhere!  No amount of cleaning made it go from my nose, and my prayers for serenity were smothered by the smell before they could ascend.  My vision was awash with it, be it physical or phantom; diarrhea ruled.   Clean, clean, clean, help me Jesus, there is crap everywhere and I really hate dogs.  And all the while the Universe is spinning further out of control, and I am none-the-wiser due to inhalant-induced brain damage.  Don’t you smell it?  You’re kidding, you can’t smell that?  It’s f*’ing AWFUL! 

An entire day passed and so did the diarrhea.  No pun intended – the brain damage is severe enough at this point that puns are beyond me.  It follows then that I, being mired in my own anger, disgust, delirium and anger (did I mention that I hate hate HATE dogs?), was again unaware that the Earth was about to flail madly out of it’s orbit and The Dark Lord of Eternal Diarrhea was overtaking the throne of reason. 

Two more days of darkness, and I cannot see the light at the end of the tunnel.  I can’t even see the tunnel, so filled with noxious brown chunky stinking sloppy goo is my miserable existence.  I eat, sleep and breathe diarrhea.  I wish for death, and especially for the dogs.  Even my tears are brown!  Life as I knew it has left the building, and Elvis is nowhere to be seen either; I wonder if he had any dogs?  The fumes have eaten what was left of my brain and all I can do is sit on my kitchen floor and cry into my poop-stained hands.  Order in the Universe?  You’ve got to be kidding.

All this time, the cat had been an angel, comforting me in her small way when I could find her under the lumpy liquid flow.  And it was another Cat who finally rescued me and restored the order I no longer could even imagine.  Praise be to the Goddess and her faithful servant, The KittyGodMother.   I don’t know how she did it, but on the third day of darkness I awoke with compassion in my heart for a poor old dog that was having an even worse time of it than me.  And, miracle of miracles, my compassion restored the balance of the Cosmos, bringing sanity and a trip to the vet for treatment and boarding in the process.   

“Behold the beauty of Order!” said the KittyGodMother.  And so I did:  King safely ensconced in the lap of veterinary intervention, Jet prescribed and given herbal doggy sedatives for his mounting anxiety (after all, he also lived in diarrhea), and the cat, or should I say the Cats – still, and even more so, are angels.

...and so you see, cats are wonderful, but even diarrhea is better than Donald Trump, 'cause at least I can make diarrhea go away.

(and no, I do not really hate dogs at all!)

.

"FOR EVERY ACTION..."

Very few people actually know me, and even the handfull who might don't know this:  I actively participate in  letting my voice be heard for a number of causes that matter to me.  Animal and environmental protection are just two of these causes, and today I was (once again) astonished at the stupidity of mankind as a whole. 
We have the nerve to look down at birds because they "foul their own nests", and we... don't?  Oh Brother.
...And Sister, and Father, and Mother!  All of you!  As my lovely imaginary Chinese room-mate would say, "Please now to see the big picture!" 

Today I wrote the following as an addendum to a pre-written letter addressed to my government representatives.  Apparently, Gray Wolves slipped through the cracks in some dunderhead's proposed legislation.  They are on the list of protected endangered species - what could possibly be gained by taking them off?  They are still endangered - isn't that the point?  How much sharper does the point have to be for the dull among us to get it?


"FOR EVERY ACTION"

Again?  Not again... what don't people get about "for every action there is a reaction"?  If it takes much longer for us to figure out that every time we kill something that's supposed to be here, we kill ourselves, then we will indeed succeed in killing ourselves.  Where are your children going to live once you have destroyed this planet and everything good on it?  If you don't believe an individual species is important, you have never seen the big picture. Short-sightedness is it's own punishment.  Stop it! 


Alas, I fear that the old adage, "A word, to the wise, is sufficient." will hold true once again.  Whether the word is sufficient or not depends on the one who hears it being wise.

.

“MOURNING LITERACY”

I just read an entry in my friend Joyce's blog. ( http://chezjlb.wordpress.com/ )

And I wonder all over again if I'm alone in the world?  Me and Joyce, that is...

Here's her blog entry, followed by a piece I wrote in November of 2008.

 

“Litterly”
January 3, 2011

Note to Youngest Niece: It’s “literally.” And that book that you can look up words is a “dictionary.” These college freshmen! What can you do?!

"...is anybody out there?"   - other than Joyce, Pink Floyd, and me?   

“MOURNING LITERACY”  

Snippets of e-mail dance through my head, 

...spell check won’t say “are” is “our” instead.

What is the difference between “than” and “then”?

...does anyone know the meaning of “ken”?

I truly believe in freedom of speech!

...but who can be free when no-one can teach?

Are we content to just say “dumb” is “fine”?

...powerful words, but they are not mine.

I sit alone, mourning Literacy -

And I do not mean ‘a time of day’.

In the evening it’s still that way -

Ignorance bolstered by idiocy.

I’m never going to get a love letter

...that holds a candle – mine were better.

Must I give up on correct punctuation?

...settling instead for crude solicitation?

Words are wings on which thought can take flight;

...isn’t that worth enough to write them “right”?

Rock-n-roll taught us to sing “yeah, yeah, yeah”,

...but not how to spell it, I’m sorry to say.

            I sit alone, mourning Literacy.

            You want to look like an idiot?

            Then just keep on being illiterate!

            Pay no attention to people like me -

            who sit alone, mourning Literacy.

"PAR-FOR-THE-COURSE"

Somtimes it helps to rave.
 ...Don't mind me... no-one else did!


The cat's on the counter drinking my smoothie,
Right from the glass, no less.
There's nothing so odd about seeing it happen;
It's par-for-the-course when you live in a mess.

Ah, the believer
I used to be...
What the hell happened
to her that was me?

For all of my effort it's still a bother -
So ineffective, I.
There's nothing so odd about seeing it happen;
It's par-for-the-course but it still makes me cry.

Ah, the achiever
I used to be...
What the hell happened
to her that was me?

                      ~:~:~
...Just what was the matter when I expected
Someone to share the grief?
I thought my "friends" would return my favors...
Being alone is my only relief.
                      ~:~:~

So much for being a selfless giver -
Backfired right up my a**.
There's nothing so odd about seeing it happen;
It's par-for-the-course if your "friends" are that crass...
It's par for the course when your friends have no class.
                          
...Just what was the matter when I expected
Someone to share the grief?
I thought my "friends" would return my favors...
Being alone is my only relief.
                     
Ah, the believer
I used to be...
What the hell happened
to her that was me?
             


.

"THINGS GONE AWRY"

Such thigs as that IA can't remember how to spell 'awry'.


...And that is an unedited and uncorrected sentence that I just typed.  Does this prove that I have not fallen off the face of Mother Earth, but instead have merely had a headache for the last ten days?  Wait - merely?  Wait - TEN DAYS?? 
I continue to hang on by the skin of my teeth, not so weird of an expression when you consider that I can't brush my teeth for the pain of the headache.  Then there's the rest of it, but all I can say for now is...
FIBROMYALGIA SUCKS!

.

"CANDY BARS AND CHEAP RED WHINE"

...I really can't explain it any better than this!


(verse 1)
Got a letter from a lover,
bad as he was good.
Told me once to go away -
now I wish I could.

Suddenly he sees the picture,
like from God divine.
Sanctify his selfishness -
water into wine.

(chorus)
"Two-Buck Chuck" is a thing of the past...
now it's three-ninety-nine.
but nights like this, it's the only cure -
Candy bars and cheap red whine,
Candy bars and cheap red whine.

(verse 2)
Wants to tell me all about it,
now he understands.
It was spirits gave him guidance -
not his own two hands.

Girl like me knows what he's thinkin',
make himself look fine.
I'm not buyin', I'm not drinkin' -
I don't need no sign.

(bridge)
Some things can give a girl the terrors -
Tonight that thing is his spelling errors.
There's wine you drink, or a whining letter -
One is bad, and one is better...
I only want the one that's wetter.

(verse3)
Got a letter from a lover,
like from God divine.
Told him just to go away -
take his cheap red whine.

(chorus)
"Two-Buck Chuck" is a thing of the past...
now it's three-ninety-nine.
but nights like this, it's the only cure -
Candy bars and cheap red whine,
Candy bars and cheap red whine.

.

"IN THE HOUSE"

Some days, "IT" just gets to me - let's make our handicaps into humor, shall we?  Even if it's dark? 
...Better yet, let's make them into songs!  Sing it with me!

    

verse 1:                  I’ve lost my mind, but

I know it’s in the house somewhere

‘cause I had it with me when I

got home from the store.

I’ve got a question –

Why do I know where my keys are?

Seeing how’s I lost my mind,

             I should be loosing more you know –

             I should be loosing more.

chorus:         I know it’s in the house somewhere.

I mean, it must be, right?

I had it with me, with my keys,

when I got home last night.

verse 2:                 I’ve lost my head, but

I know it’s in the house somewhere –

Saw it in the mirror when I

came in through the door.

So here’s the question –

How come I still can see myself?

Seeing how’s I lost my head,

my eyes would not be sore you know –

my eyes would not be sore.

chorus:         I know it’s in the house somewhere.

I mean, it must be, right?

I had it with me, with my mind,

when I got home last night.

verse 3:                 I’ve lost my brain, but

I know it’s in the house somewhere.

Felt it rattling in my head like

loose screws in a drawer.

Now for the question –

What happens if I step on it?

Seeing how’s I lost my brain,

it might be on the floor you know –

it might be on the floor.

chorus:         I know it’s in the house somewhere.

I mean, it must be, right?

I had it with me, with my head

when I got home last night.

chorus:         Oh, I know it’s in the house somewhere.

I mean, it must be, right?

I had it with me, with my head, my mind, my keys . . .

Oh, I had it with me, with my keys,

when I got home last night.

.

 

"...OR NOT?"

..."So that's my theory an' I'm stickin' to it."  Or not.
Land of shimp said...
          "Aha, sounds more like a motion to be seconded and carried than a theory, but I'm in favor of it. I never met a fruit acid I didn't like..."

And I concur!  Never met and intellegent correction that I didn't like.

So now... shall I rewrite it ("The Theory of Regularity", 11 feb 2011) or, seeing how it's been seconded already, shall we just vote?  I, for one, would like to loose one upcoming birthday for every single thing in my experience that seems to have a short in it.  And quick! - before all those things short out altogether and I no longer remember what birthdays even are!

.

"THE THEORY OF REGULARITY"

       Today I was thinking of an old friend, and realised that I had no idea how old that friend
actually was.  I thought to contact her and ask her when her birthday was.  Of course, logic suggests that she would then ask me the same question, which made me think of the answer, and that set off a whole big chain of philosophical reasoning and other gibberish.  Maybe I knew how old she was once.  And maybe I would rather not tell her how old her old friend actually was. 
       I have a theory about birthdays.  I have a theory about a lot of things actually; things that
were once confusing but now make perfect sense to me.  You've heard of the Theory of Relativity?  Well, this one's called "The Theory of Regularity".  Bear with me, OK?  I promise I'll go away in a minute...
       Think of things that you do that happen regularly.  Like sleeping at night.  As time passes in
life, some of those things become less dependable, less predictable and less regular.  Things like
cognition, cell turnover and bowel movements?  Well I think birthdays should be added to the list.  If "other things" get to leave the building, some of which a person actually needed - then having
birthdays less frequently seems only logical, amirite?  Yeah?
       So that's my theory an' I'm stickin' to it.  :)


.

"THE SILENCE OF FOOLS"

       Sometimes the craving for silence is overwhelming; without it my mind and body get wound up tighter and tighter until one or both of them is bound to snap and fly apart, shredding like shrapnel.  Today though, I have to avoid silence.  I need to make some noise, get some things done - and drown out the rising wail of pain. 
       Fifteen out of the last twenty days have been painful enough to limit my mobility, and limited mobility makes such a mess!  I try to at least keep the livingroom straighted up so that I have somewhere to rest my eyes that isn't in chaos.  I gave up on the bedroom months ago - my eyes are closed when I'm in there anyway.  And it's not as if I have visitors, eh?  In fact, that has become part of the problem.
       The visitors that I crave as much as silence are the helpers.  You know, the ones who come in on a regular basis and help me manage my disability?  Oh wait.  Yeah,  about that...
       I'm just one person, you know?  One little person in the nearly infinite sea of persons who need help somehow.  And my 'somehow' looks pretty insignificant compaired to the floods in Australia and the earthquake in Haiti.  Reality check?  Yes, and no. 
       If I knew that the people who could help me take care of myself and my home were giving their money or their time to help those in such horrible need, I would never begrudge them the time they don't have for me.  But they're not.  That doesn't make them bad; in fact, I'm sure that everyone I know does something nice to help someone else every day.  When it's convenient.  When it's comfortable.  Or when it's tax deductable.  I am none of those things.
       Quite the opposite in fact - I am uncomfortable twenty-four hours a day and it's damned inconvenient to be in too much pain to take care of things I used to take for granted!  And I'm certainly no-one's tax deduction!  No, instead I am alone alone alone for days at a time, and if I writhe in pain and the mess it makes, who's to know?  If "a word, to the wise, is sufficient", then I must be looking out to a horizon of utter fools.
       So I need to make some noise, get some things done... the silence of fools is more than enough silence for today.

.

"ROADS"

For a while the roads ran parallel,
for a moment, became one;
But the moment passed, as did the while -
each road went on, as mile on mile
their paths no longer reconcile,
their time together done.


Who could say what really happened when,
for a moment, time stood still?
But the moment passed, as did the time
for hearts to sing and minds to rhyme;
and roads, now only rocks and grime,
go on outside our will.

.

"C'MON!"

No!  Not ready!  Not ready yet!  Don't wake me up yet!  Oh... no...
Good Morning, Pain.
 
Now I have to get up because I can't stand lying here with you for another second. 
Maybe I could get up and you could just stay here? 
No?  C'mon!  ...just this once? 

It's good to be stupid when you first wake up - if it were otherwise I might give up
before I ever make it into the kitchen.
Hey, Pain - you want some coffee?

After the coffee, Pain says that I shouldn't take a shower,
that it'll hurt even worse if I try to wash.  But I'm not driving to the store looking like this, so I say, "No, I'm showering."

"Driving to the store?  Seriously?  Who are you trying to fool with that? 
I don't feel like going to the store, so you aren't going either!"
Hey!  How 'bout this?  Maybe I could go and you could stay here! 
No?  C'mon!  ...just this once?

It's good to be stubborn when you need to go somewhere - if it were otherwise I might give up
before I ever make it into the car.
Hey, Pain - you need anything at the store?

Made it back and it's evening now; quiet and dark, time to slow down. 
Glass of wine and a good book, pillows and soft music.
Slow down, slow down...

No!  Not ready!  Not ready to go to bed!
Please?  ...oh well.
I really hate sleeping with you, you know.

It's good to be drugged when it's time to lie down - if it were otherwise I might give up
before I ever make it into the bedroom.
Hey, Pain - just go to sleep, would you?  Or go to Hell - either one's OK with me -
No?  C'mon...
Oh.  Wait.  This IS Hell.

Goodnight, Pain.

.

"GOODBYE, GEMINI"

Indulge me in a little 'blast from the past'... Ten years ago this winter.


                    “…You wouldn’t know a diamond if you held it in your hand -                     
                                                  the things you think are useless, I can’t understand.”
                                                                                                                             - Donald Fagan


  
I guess you never told your twin
that you said that you loved me,
or how it would be such a sin
to take advantage of me.


Did you just hope I’d understand,
when all along you knew
that only one of you loved me
out of the two of you?

                 Goodbye, Gemini.
          I’ve got to set you free.
          I just can’t live with half your love,
                 and you, and you, and me.

   
                 Goodbye, Gemini.
          It’s better that we parted -
         ‘Cause you’re not only two-faced,
                 you’re two-headed and two-hearted.


I set my heart on giving you
the time and space you needed,
and set aside what happened to
my needs, left all unheeded.


Did you just think I wouldn’t see
when you stopped paying attention?
That you are hot and cold like this
is past my comprehension.


                 Goodbye, Gemini.
          I’ve got to set you free.
          I just can’t live with half your love,
                 and you, and you, and me.
   
                 Goodbye, Gemini.
          It’s better that we parted -
         ‘Cause you’re not only two-faced,
                 you’re two-headed and two-hearted.


                                        ~:~:~:~:~
Convenient for you, isn’t it,
          to pass off telling lies
                    by saying it’s the other you that’s talking?
Your explanation’s just a bad excuse
          in poor disguise -
                    You two can stay right here and watch me walking  -  out.
                                           ~:~:~:~:~


                 Goodbye, Gemini.
          I’ve got to set you free.
          I just can’t live with half your love,
                 and you, and you, and me.
   
                 Goodbye, Gemini.
          It’s better that we parted -
         ‘Cause if I can’t have all of you,
                 I wish we’d never started -


          I didn’t know the love I gave
          could just be disregarded…
          But you’re not only two-faced,
                 You’re two-headed and two-hearted.

.

"FLIP THE SWITCH"

("I must be somewhere...")

the switch is down the lights are off and there's no face in the darkened mirror, what?
what's going on?
so glad there's no-one here to see so bad when darkness falls in the daylight, what?
what's going on?
Flip the switch!
Flip the switch!
I can't keep disappearing like this!
There's no light
and I can't see -
Flip the switch and I'll be me.

the switch is down the lights are gone and I am nowhere anywhere nearer, what?
what's going on?
so hard to claw back to the top so pardon me i'm drowning in nothing, what?
what's going on?
Flip the switch!
Flip the switch!
I can't keep disappearing like this!
There's no light
and I can't see -
Flip the switch and I'll be me.

("I must be somewhere, you just can't go there,
look, there's a light, oh...
I fell asleep.
I must be dreaming, that's not me screaming,
I lay me down now
my soul to keep...")

And if I die before I wake,
what difference would it make?
Flip the switch!
Flip the switch!
I can't keep disappearing like this!
There's no light
and I can't see -
Flip the switch and I'll be me.

.

"WILDCAT"

                                   
Jodie sometimes talks about the way the cloth of life is made -
Even as we weave the front, the back might be unraveling;
Time is always moving and the light of day is meant to fade –
Even while we’re standing still our life is swiftly traveling.


So I choose to make my own choices; turning from dissenting voices
- never be a puppet that somebody else is posing.
For every freedom I explore, opening another door
- somewhere in another place another door is closing.

                                             ~:~:~:~

          If you try to catch a wildcat and put it in a pen,
          soon the beauty that you saw will disappear – and then
          what is left of all that triggered your desire at first?
          ...Water has no value when you don’t feel any thirst.
                                               ~:~:~:~
 
Jodie sometimes talks about decisions other people make –
whether they make sense or not is not for her to say;
Everyone must for themselves decide which course is best to take –
hoping in the process to improve some future day.


So I choose to make my own choices; turning from dissenting voices
- never be a puppet that somebody else is posing.
For every freedom I explore, opening another door
- somewhere in another place another door is closing.


Time is always moving and the light of day is meant to fade –
even when we’re standing still our life is swiftly traveling;
Jodie sometimes talks about the way the cloth of life is made –
even as we weave the front, the back might be unraveling…

.