I think I’ll start writing, but, talk about blank mind. Empty mind. Two books read this morning with coffee. Me in my food-spilled, stained cargo shorts, (which) I may keep wearing – it’s not a statement – I like the feeling, how they feel, and I can’t see the stains, not when I’m upright and away from the mirror, and it’s kind of who cares? Apparent, I think, with the slightest attention, (that) it ain’t me.
It’s where I’m headed while I already live there. This path which is not a goal – be pretty hard to defend or explain, but just is. Stuff is hard to understand, to patiently and devotedly comprehend, and maybe it’s my age and maybe I don’t remember this morning it’s always been so – the not remembering also an age thing, or a middle ground or, like, Barbara Streisand might say, they way it is. There is a recognition, with no sense makes sense, and for sure I don’t want to try (intentionally) to be unclear or weird or silly or (with) some kind of a self-importance thing. Nah. I’m pretty darn clear it’s – be here now. The honest answer to “Where you at?”
Helped with the line in the ‘Introduction’ to the William Carlos Williams book – it ain’t collecting even promoting or begging for an audience – it’s how am I today right now. Like, I was on to something when I arrived (here) on January 22 at I’m in need of a kick in the butt – it’s what you (me) said if not in so many words, so suit up and show up Mondays through Fridays with here I am today, even the quality of the “am” being the “am”.
I dig that and I’m in a settled place there. And this explains “it”, I think, as well as I can so far in my life.