Crushing now every day.

I live in a moment in time
the seconds add up to the sum of me

I only get so many
carpe diem they said to me
this day is not like others i said
mark it, is there time?
play to the whistle and then make them make you stop

some of us only have a bent stick on a barn

flinging cold hard rocks or rubber

hit it every day

it is the only chance we get

he's not what you call a very glamorous man
dr feelgood.
to stare at the abyss of the ending of life
the yawning bored face of yet another ending it so sadly
do not go there to that plain
it is a hard place
to sleep in the arms of morpheus is to weep


i have only these small words to defend me.
they are not much
but it is what I had at hand

Root hog

Brodt!

I suppose I just have to keep on digging. Somewhere somehow some way.
The other side of the river and the valley. I do not know what is there.
I hear the platitudes. I hear the well wishes. I sense the compassion and care.
I have to do it myself. And I get a lot of help.

Bad recordings of things we tell ourselves and others have to show us

the silliness of what we believed. perception of us as we saw ourselves in another
it is like the man said to me about all manner of therapy
when we have been wounded
the ultimate answer and final resolution after we have cried our tears
and been consoled in our misery
is to pick yourself up and get going again
Get up and go out the door out on the street all alone. Busted if need be