The words just won’t come out sometimes. The whole world is happening around me, happening to me, and I just don’t have anything to say about it. It’s sounds like a depressing thought, but it’s not really. It just is.
I keep thinking I need to top up on my spirituality, but whenever the cross roads come, I know I’m already there. It’s like it’s living somewhere below the surface, out of sight, out of mind, not really bothering with me until needed. I keep thinking that I need to write it all down, but that’s not needed either.
There remains a steady stream of stirrings in my social life… my love life. I have no idea where anything’s going. I’m not really at the wheel, cuz there ain’t no wheel. I’m a leaf floating on a raging river and all I can do is ride. There’s no destination, no side trips, no rest stops. There’s only the constant forward motion. Wouldn’t have it any other way.
I have $20 million worth of intellectual property ready for the making. Ain’t worth a fuck until someone comes along to buy it. All I can do is hang in there… keep at it, keep at it and create more. And yet, creating more has me feeling kind of cheap, kind of like a whore. I’ve been creating constantly for a year and a half, new projects, polished projects, projects with shelf lives, and projects with market potential. From my mind to the page. No one can do it quite like I can do it. Just gotta do a better job getting it all to market I guess.
So here I am. Saturday morning. Got a whole day ahead of me. What shall become of it?