On Thursday I didn't go outside at all. Usually something will make me go outside whether by hook or crook. Sure I was particularly entertained remaining indoors. I wrote a triolet of couplets for Lee along with a haiku.
sunbeams in spring dancing on
pink blossoms casting
cool shadows for sleeping cats
I never wrote a poem for anyone. Yeah I wrote a dumb limerick back in college:
There once was a man from Mars
Who picked up his dinner in bars
After the lovin'
She went into the oven
With an apple shoved up her arse
But seriously I've never been inclined to write poetry even though I've always figured it was a hallmark of someone who is a good writer. Not a typist but a writer. Thank you, Truman Capote. Lee is something special and even declaring the fact in public gives me pause, instigating an anxiety that the mere declaration diminishes the sentiment even if it is simply by the thickness of a neutron. Once I'm done wrestling with such a thought I recite the four precepts of "To know, to will, to dare and to keep silent." Still this doesn't diminish the feeling inside of me which motivates me to tell everyone who matters to me about my own happiness violating the fourth rule.
One thing that I've been hearing a lot of and slowly been learning is that I can do anything I want in life. Also to a lesser extent that fear binds me and I make my own rules to protect myself from being hurt by preconceived notions of my social and personal interactions. Simple ideas which are so hard to practice in real life.
What gives me joy is when I throw caution into the wind or leap from the clifftop like The Fool #0 heedless of fate. My life is my own and not subject to the whims of family, friends, gods nor government. Even if it is rickety and held together by roaches holding hands, sure to collapse if someone tried sanding the rust from the supports but it's mine.
Perhaps maybe I'm up too late and need some sunshine in my life.
