Poop!

2024.06.26

Good morning that lovely way to start.

Looking out over the whatever it is when you look out over your imagination of what you'd look out over if you were anywhere else where you didn't require the imagination to do so, when Mother Nature was enough of a horizon line to keep you enthralled.

Here we are again in that place in the human race, but not because of anything other than this is where you woke up.

And the words come slow and lethargic.

But they do come.

And this reason, the one you wake up for, to get these words down on these pages for you, is a trip into the zoo called humanity.

But you like the zoo.

Sort of.

It's the cages for the stages of each type and stock of the way a creature acts in it's not habitat.

And it smells.

Of course, a small space full of different types of animals and they all have one thing in common.

Poop!

They all drop'em when and where they can. And they have no opposable digits so flushing is out.

And so is the poo.

And here we are. I was going to talk about being a hermit before the zoo poop showed up.

But sometimes to get to the good stuff you gotta go through some serious shit.

So that's cleaned up, wiped as it were, onto the next.

Horizons and the human race.

Today's not a nonsense day.

More words in ways to get to you.

All of you.

And what that means is a return of words.

The one thing lacking from my life, the thing that solves all of my issues, is the return of the words I send out.

For one caring person, one deep reader, to tell me my words mean something to them.

Seriously, every single life problem I ever had, and some would say my life has been nothing, but issues thrown in my path to impede my success, solves, heals my whole life.

So, I rearrange them.

Find new ways to get them to you.

And wait for the boomerang to return the throw.

Words mean nothing without the experience of words.

Language thrown at mountains emit back empty echoes if they cannot return like for like.

Words require a person to reach them to exist otherwise they might as well be grunts and oohs, ahs and gobbley-gook meant to give your mouth something to do.

Lonely music meant for a would-be audience, if only one would listen, if only one could be found, or, ideally, find you.