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Interruptions
Sitting outside my favorite coffeeshop, notebook in front of me, and cigarette in hand. I came to gather my thoughts and gain some peace, but am only finding more complications. People have a tendency to come up to me and starta conversation, people I don't even know. I'm not sure whether or not that is a good thing, but it certainly makes for interesting writing material.
It's a summer night in California. The air isn't particularly cold, but has a certain crispness to it that seeps into your skin. I dislike the fact that I cannot see the stars when in the city. I miss going out into the woods with a blanket and lying flat on my back, staring up at the sky for hours. I miss being happy.
So many things, moments and people, come and go in our lives. As they say, change is the only true constant. If only it were easy. Then again, if it were easy, we wouldn't crave it.
I've been making lists of things that make me happy. Music, writing, having time to myself, and time for myself all top the list easily. But is that really enough?
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In spite of the interruptions, the depth is there for us to share - prose-poetry with images like star gazing aback. Imagine someone from Big Sky country in Ny La or Chi Town - claustrophobia syndrome assuredly - The opposite holds for city dwellers, can't handle nature in open spaces well often. It's about mind-set and fixations and preferences and yeah, freedom - Just Bein Stella.
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