This morning I’ve been thinking. Of my deceased uncle. His drinking, smoking – how much I’ve missed him. The opportunities I had to game with him. And didn’t. I don’t want to be another deceased uncle, or singer, or maybe I will focus on my goals. I see a boat, think of my grandfather’s old boat, think of the good times. The childhood memories. The lies. The things I wasn’t sure were truths, and are. There’s regret. The rabbit hole I’ve continued to dig. Faster, efficiently. How do you catch a rabbit? How do you trap it? Is that the sign? The molten rabbit, the happy smiles, the things the forefathers did to keep us straight the motherly love. The fatherly instruction.
Perhaps it’s not bliss every second. If you remember, write it. So I am. If I think, hey, there’s a curse, a trauma, a sin – it manifests. Then later, it doubles back, my mind, to remind me I thought of it and it became reality. Harvesting that thought, the sew the weave, the pattern. Maybe the things I hear aren’t all true, the internet might not be for just negativity sometimes it’s positive but it gets refused. So the avoidance and the unseen become later reality. Where do you stop? Maybe there’s a day, but the time inbetween gives some hope, like this beautiful day, the perfect song, the nice weather, the humble churning waters and the change after you catch the break could be good enough, and the punishment for regret too great.
Clear & Precise Resumes 