orgami's Diaryland Diary

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twenty fourth....moon with a jewel..

cold...dry pavement and ice...gravel and
lingering winter banks...the stillness of
quiet...a city on the edge of the woods..

days arrive and leave....clean...vacum..
laundry..shower..television..coffee..cigarettes
and writing...sporadic..

sleep schedule infrequent...the winter nights
stirred by the occasional mild storm for us..
no great lakes affect...somehow the winds
move about us....

down to one bike....for moment....need a dremel
in meantime walk with boots wearing out...
six months regardless if I pay ten dollars forty
or a hundred....all things wear...like bikes..
like time...

beard filling in longer...but not thick..
the product of the race mixture..its my beard
this is what it looks like....
its clean..my hair brushed...like my dishes
washed...not chaotic...

going over it all...save so much small things..
but it becomes the two shelves to the Only Need One shelf...I have lived light before..
out of a pack sack.....move...move...felt
there needed to be new light coming in through
the windows....new keys too new doors...
new routines till they became like dreams
and it was time to move again...

comp still going....pirate...like an old ship
a tended car its glory worn out..parts not
worth replacing....a vessel moving intel a
brodcast system and small save cache mostly
apps i keep upgraded and never use....

what are we at all but experiences for the
most....photos for those inclined....for me
writing mostly.....I keep in touch with those
that still have the want....but many have
come in out....the majority i delete the
letters...saving only the most clear and
meaningful of letters...like binary..for
every positive word there are negatives...
in the balance of this there is balance..

feel good lately....fed...stablized more
on my meds more..maintenance of the other
then the binge purge...rise high and crash
an expenditure of youth....since the white
came in too the moustache and beard..side
burns its time telling me my winter has
begun....and yet I tend to this...weeding
the pure white back...keeping the illusion
of it away while I can...till the white
fully incorporates things....not hardly
any white hairs in my hair....a joy at
fifty three in a few long months too be
..

i try to be as open and willing...all I needed
was too be overrun from the cush comfort zone
travel light...i had forgotten all the
experience of that would come back via dreams
storie contact from the street and memory
prompts through music and movies to remind
me the dayz I already know....

the ego walls some cover....but my life is not
a fortification....I push ...and overs guide
me those that live outside the box....
as it was when I was young...
as it is when I am old....
the older guiding..
the young further then I teaching
and when I am willing
I listen
blind ears cannot share
the vision
of what others see
and delve

and man is not an island

....

5:07 a.m. - 2016-02-24

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