Genreless Scented art

Happy Thanksgiving to those indoors, outdoors, suffering, joyful and essentially all breathing living creatures.  As the earth breathes out here in the next year or so and the dust of history fills the air with a temporary smog and our junk DNA activates and we can all lick the on big everlasting gobstopper that I think God is, I hope that everyone has a moment or two today to at least have a gratitude for something;  I certainly am lucky in health, talent, all rivers of love and support that come my way.

There’s an increasing awareness I think I’ve mentioned of feeling where society pulls me versus what my heart wants;  paradigms and genres are sometimes like ringworms or some other nasty infection to me;  marriage and career are two areas and two areas where I am at the moment unsatisfied or still incubating; for career, it’s trying to tell the difference between selling out and asserting my courage; admiring those who have succeeded or being jealuos or however it materializes;  I would be very hard on myself for not having success by now where I wanted it;  it fills those little caverns with doubt about my choices, my talent and my place in this world;  soul spelunking is a hobby;  and now, as I’m sitting at my parents feeling a midnight surge coming on I can begint o see the difference between the distinct clean path that I wish to walk and selling out little baggies of self here and there until all that’s left is my right eyeball and some teeth fillings; I feel that oncming surge of success and joy and it must come at the righteous pace, with the alchemist’s eye for purity, and not too fast;  that’s asserting the will; the fued is how attached to any future I become.  I do know I feel genreless, without labels and without now caring about them but needing to have that one last three ounces of courage to step forward.  Three tiny biblical ounces to scrape together and down like a shot of Jagermeister.  I am not a comedian; I am not a poet; I am not a storyteller; I am an artistsic X-man, a genetic stew of all of them and a couple I may not know yet.

As for marriage and seeking someone, I’ll leave that for another day.  I will say I trust my dreams, my imagination and my instincts around it and close is closer.  I cannot settle a sinle quark inside me for someone just to have someone. That kind of thing for microscopic black holes around people that suck light;  so I wait here also; active waiting without compromise. Vines of Babylon hang from her Sex; that’s all I know for sure.

Good night, detoxing America!

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