Last Stream of Consciousness For The Year

Mini-falls from Hanging Lake trail

Falling Stream

Final Thoughts of the Year

This is the end, this is the beginning, this is the middle of the muck and I’m a perpetual snot monster breathing cold air, time goes tick tock, I go plip plop, drip drip dripping ooze noggin into written word or is it a dream stuck in a book stuck in a rag stuck in a garbage bag stuck on a train next to a hobo smoking a corn cob pipe full of spinach and he has the toughest nose around and he drinks out of a bottle of olive oil and why does he have a tattoo of an anchor on his massive bicep? what? where did I go there? let’s gently nudge it back, c’mon it’s ok, it’s safe to play in that outside where the road meets the curb and the sand becomes stuck mud on shoes and tracked into cars into cafes into life and spread all over the dreams of those who walk the million miles back and forth tuning out reason and continuously living an insane sanity curved around a flag pole and yelling out anthems to no one listening because it’s the thing to do, because it’s always the thing to do, to spit in cycles and irrelevant patterns only to fold in on itself and become a wet swamp ass mess and then it becomes too much so there on the horizon lays the next spit monster to latch onto and forget about anything from the past because what is there to learn anymore but more of the same, we know we know we know everything and everything knows it’s no longer a mystery but a burden of entertainment so make those resolutions and thoughts of inaction and keep on keepin on because next year will find yourself thinking the same things and doing the same things and blazing the same old trails that snuffed out back in the middle and it will all be so progressive and amazing and shit until you wake up and stop hitting the snooze and take a cold shower to wash off the cake of dried salt you cried all over yourself and then when you dry out your skin and make a mess of your hair you will grab that oversized towel and pat yourself down and maybe you’ll comb your hair so you have a new look of freshness and get those teeth sparkly white because outside of that door lays the universe of things to be if you have the courage to step through and grab the string dangling down from that weightless balloon that doesn’t look sturdy enough to carry your weight, but it will, my friend, I tell you it will.

All you have to have is courage.

– Year of the Rabbit


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