This morning while reading a story in my book “Get in the Car”, I had the distinct sensation of being right where I’m supposed to be. Exactly. Right here right now. Which followed a crystal clear thought in the recliner earlier, while drinking coffee, that I am 10,000 miles away from – call it – home. Pretty much AC/DC – “It’s a long way to the top if want to rock and roll.”
Now, I have vowed to refrain, every single time going forward, from writing and posting anywhere publicly what my Bro Gavin in Oakland labeled and explained to me was “esoteric”. Pretty much unknowable, not understandable, except to me. You may call it weird (or crap). I made that vow.
That “Oh well” feels to be at the very bottom of my entire life. Sown and woven through and through, So, let’s see, other than a couple of two-hour commitments, I don’t have anything planned this week. Which means I have time to finally write my official, authorized memoir. Which, as of a few minutes ago, will be titled “Oh well” – capital O, small w.
That’s my weather here this morning.