reading #194

AME AND THE TANGY ENERGETIC A BOOK BY KATYA MILLS

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journal entry

Journal # May 29th

The particular oak tree had an attitude. It could see parts of the city skyline the others were not tall enough to catch, and it’s attitude was thoughtful, some say jaded. Many families were memorial day licking ice cream cones below, in its shade, and the lines trailed out the door. There was a guy against the sky juggling base ball sized scoops of ice and cream, who lit up at night in neon, and more than one little kid wondered why the neon could not be turned on during the day seeing how the store was open. There was no mistaking the store was open, for there were lines reaching out to the street corner where the tree above was branching. It was memorial day and American jet engines could be heard overhead. The jets could not always be seen against the sky, above the guy and the tree, and you could hear the sound of the crosswalk beneath the jet engines, when people pushed the button to cross. Sometimes when no one was crossing, kids liked to press the button just for fun. The oak tree saw it all. The sugar in the ice cream and freezes was also responsible but could not be blamed. You could follow someone home simply by the dotted line of dripping.

sugar

K in Tahoe. pic by K’s brother

These are the holidays and sugar runs high and mighty in the bloodstream. I wanna get back to baseline

back to water
back to coffee

rivers
and the sea

avoid the fake
and real news, too

back to books
and Tetley’s tea

all my old friends
and me

journal

There’s no fuckin around anymore with my life, I mean, anytime I go sideways and let myself go even just a bit off, I suffer several hours later, usually in the hangtime before I have to get up for work, but also it can destroy my weekends, too. I don’t know what I did or if it’s just natural aging but it’s right in my face and I’ll tell you somethin else, well; I kinda like things better this way. Cause I used to fuck off all the time and I could fuck off for days and get away with it. Lots of polysubstance abuse, you know, back then before I got clean, even after I knew I was an addict and drugs were no good for me, devolving, I tended when disheartened to return to the familiar and break away from common decency and back to the tops of far off peaks of despair, looking over my life and sneaking and peaking and using and falling and crying and trying to get over myself again. That’s no way to live, you know, but we do it anyway. But my margin of error has disappeared and I’m really thankful, really grateful in a way to feel the pain, now, the age or heaviness or whatever, and I don’t do drugs going on 4 years, and I just get beat up by too much caffeine or sugar or too little water or too many carbs or too much sun and overexertion, wow, so I get back to work takin care of myself, right away cause I much desire a better more forthright life for myself, an adherent to a sound personal code and reasonable daily allowance of dreaming my way forward into a kindhearted reality. Whatever the hell that means… and I mean it. I cannot outlast anyone. All I can do is get ina sweet groove and try and stay there and work it awhile so we can be better off by me. I mean contribute my part, live good for someone else to see for themselves how to go about it, too. There’s no fuckin around anymore and why would I want to? Seek the joy of being alive and that’s it. Give and give some more. Show and don’t show off. Accept who you are and love what you have so you can carry that and not need to escape nothin and then they will see the truth in you and it’s not pretty or grandstandin or anything, it just is what it is and that’s more than enough.