when asked about myself, I immediately feel flustered. ‘oh wow, someone wants to know!’,
I stopped and thought about it for awhile, trying to relay just who I am; what I am, my aims an goals, how I’ve gotten to where I am, Why I am what I am.
For a long while now, it felt like trying to describe a colour. You don’t have reasons for liking reptiles over mammals, or surprises over routine; people simply like different things, which most can’t be outright explained.
But maybe I’m getting ahead of myself; Not everything needs an explanation, especially when it comes to the heart.
I live a simple life. I get up in the early afternoon, about 9 or 10:30 if I’m feeling lazy, and wander into the kitchen. Toast and water wake me up a bit before I head on up the worn stairs to my landladies place to take her dog, Loki,for his walk.
I offered to do so a week ago for moral support and a good solid reason to get out of bed in the morning.
Depending on the day, my hoodie will either be worn (on the bad, uncomfortable days) or left behind (On the good, warm days); It’s become my signature, wearing this oversize batman hoodie when I’m feeling down. It also does wonders to hide my curves and bottom, both of which catch a little too much attention in my own eyes.
Walking Loki is about a 30 minute venture, sometimes longer if I doddle and let him sniff and snort over every piece of grass we go past. I coo or grumble, either milling about beside him or tugging him along to keep up.
The vegetation never changes, but its always calming to look at. It tunnels the cement bike path, enclosing the damp, cool smell of grass and earth, up until the reservoir stream..
That stream smells rather raunchy sometimes; too many dogs, or too many people with too many leavings. My nose always twitches when I walk by it.
The smell always ebbs away as the walk continues; its a short shot of shit, but it doesn’t follow through the tunnel of trees.
About this time, Loki feels the need to add to the smell; that’s fine, I have small bags specifically for his own stool, and its a quick pick up before we’e on our way.
Towards the bridge, more and more people begin passing us by. Some on bikes, others walking, some by themselves, others in pairs. There have been a couple pairs in wheelchairs, some old, and a couple mentally battered. Its a popular trail, even with its goofy name, ‘galloping goose’.
On the right, the tunnel eases open its size, and turns into a flat line of thick trees. On the left, apartment buildings begin to rise just beyond the slope of grass. Lots more people mill around in this area, most heading towards the board walkway towards the towns restaurants and lookout points.
I walked down to the water once; It smelt bad. The view was gorgeous, with sparkling gentle laps of water, boats and canoes coasting on the top; the sun reflecting in yellow and orange, no matter the time of day. If only it didn’t smell.
Luckily, the wind picks up quite a bit, and the smell never lingers. Its tolerable enough to sit in the shade and relax for a minute.
I tried to bing my notebook this last time, figuring I could make a web of my inner thoughts. No matter how thoroughly I’ve unpacked everything, it doesn’t mean jack-shit if you either can’t remember, or aren’t 100% certain about what you thought before. So I figured, hey, ‘ll start with the basics’
Somewhere along the trail, I lost my one solitary pen.
farthingfilthingfarking fucking fuck.
So much for that idea.
so the time is spent just watching. Looking around, taking in the scene of the water, feeling the wind, the grass, the sun; I haven’t people-watched in a long time, as it can get too over-whelming; I’ve gotten to the point where I, rather than getting in someone else’s shoes, jump right into their skin, and their days life of worries and happiness, going on’s and troubles, fill my head and I have to shake off their presence.
Back to nature and the plants; if Loki isn’t trying to eat something.
The need to move gets me up and heading back home after about 5-10 minutes, and the walk back is pretty much the same as the walk there.
Those are my mornings; the rest of the day is all draw-of-the-hat; sometimes one activity falls into the next, from cleaning to cooking to outdoor activities to visiting with friends, and other times its a whole hell of a lot of nothing.
I draw, but its halfheartedly done. I don’t have the passion these days for it, using my energy on doing the small, simplistic day-to-day rites.
Sometimes I sit out in the sun, meditating and soaking up the warmth. It makes me feel good for a little while, but rarely can I find things to keep myself busy with.
Crafts? A next step to get back into…I can make many random things with cardboard alone, and I have my sketchbook as well as tablet for drawing.
Thats where my day almost always winds up going down; drawing, doodling, scribbling. Monsters and chimeras mostly, but sometimes, rarely, I get an idea for a scene. That, is when my muse comes out and spills