Wednesday, January 4, 2017

Dwarfen Pub

What a place to be
Debating bee's and the morality of washing your hands to kill living organisms...
After days of capturing our rehearsed emotions, we took old bicycles and rode through the country side.
Sacrificing sweat for distance we made Oak with plenty of time to kill with local beers & ales
I'd never really had this.
A place.
A time.
Many people wait about for one, never to find as I have that you make your own time. You make your own place. Just may have to let go of a few things to do so first.
Strange that once I let go I never felt I did.
So guarded and fiercefully protective of the memories and emotions felt of a dead person.
The never ending regret and sickened feeling left by the void, knowing they shall never be replaced... but not mindful or experienced enough to ask if they should be.
My greatest work wasn't sorrow. It wasn't pain or even tradegy.
It was erratic honesty. And with that came acceptance.
So here we drink unnamed nettle brews and I share with myself what this means to me... What you mean to me... What she meant to me.
Erratically and honestly.
Before long the summer day cools and clear night begins and with these terrible dynamos on our bikes, there's no chance of light without having a heart attack.
So may starlight lead the way or hearts guide our path... And if all else fails conversation will keep us from being lost.
They always do, my dear friend James.

- sleeps