It is the 15th now, I’ve officially been the age of 55 for four days. It has been an interesting month so far, an interesting month or three is more like it.
There have been learning curves, a bit of growing up (or should it be “growing in”?) Patience has been so on my side, except for when I have to deal with the rushing madness of the crazy traffic I seem to run into all the time anymore.
Since there are so many folks posting, journaling, vlogging and shagging ,oops, how did that slip in? Oh Chit, stop K. , I figured I would once again put my simple, chaotic, slightly brain-damaged words somewhere other than my own mind. I started decades ago in Michigan with a diary, writing my 6th grade self’s poems and such down to be forever somewhere. Even then, I kept my truth to myself as there was no way I was going to write the hell of my world down. Turns out good thing I didn’t back then as those diaries got stolen out of my locker along with these very groovy butterflies I made in whatever shop class I happened to be in at the moment. I adored those sorts of classes in school. This incident stopped me from that sort of thing for many years though, it was quite awhile before I kept a journal again.
Keep a journal of some sort is what I did over these years, a lot of them hang out in a trunk I lug around with me.
Someday to be read by someone I’m sure.
There have poems sent out to some folks of mine, or was mine, or in mine, however, and I’m pretty positive those did get read.