Busy. I have been working so much that life has become one steady stream of shifts. It doesn't give me much time to myself. Maybe that is good. Thinking less is a bad thing though. I don't like the direction that this is taking. It seems to be money motivated. The money is good, but is it good? Am I becoming a time prostitute? A hustler. Selling my life for what? In the few hours that I have to myself, I sleep. If I don't sleep, I hurt, and I think about sleep. Will it change when I leave this place?
Sometimes in the lulls of the day, I can see life happening around me. Perhaps with increased clarity. The rose that is dropped. The bride and her ladies. The man who disregaurds the rose on the ground. He steps over it without noticing it's beauty. It's petals separated from it's stem in sweet chaos. A dust cloud that passes over it as a car backs out of a driveway.
The bride scurries by without knowing that this single rose, among her many, has fallen. On her way back to the car. She is hurried. What is she thinking? "Lets get this over with?" To what end?
Why look forward to things to come when there are perfectly beautiful things to enjoy in this moment, and in this place?
Maybe one day I will learn to let money and industry go to hell. Maybe one day I will stop stepping over that damn flower.