what a lousy blogger -- not that there's a following, but it does sometimes for me something and knowing that it yet remains a low priority or so it seems. Ambivalence in practice, though often my mind composes and if I've a slop of paper I'll make note of same, thinking it will be a good start later if nothing else, yet this generally ends as nothing else. Whatever it is, sometimes I think I might like to be that person. Whoever that is.
Lately I've been puzzling that the less I have to do -- compulsory, mandatory, money-making, productive stuff -- the more I find myself doing, most of it fairly unproductive.
Unemployed -- apparently unemployable -- busyness
I am lazy? Yet I have so much running around ... I thought I'd have at least something to do, even if made up stuff, like art, writing, photos. I do little or none of these, at least not with any effect. Haven't touched a photo since christmas, have to figure out what program to use to work them. Work with my ladies doing jewelry as they prepare for a show at St Ambrose and have bought some stones with every real intent of making something, but there's a bag here, a bag there, another bag over there ...
I don't have a coherent writing schedule - actually there's not much coherent about me at all in terms of writing or any other form of self expression much less the more important or at least time-sensitive things like gardening, laundry, etc.
More than writing I long for communication though I fear most everything I have to say is shallow, superficial, irrelevant, childish and asinine. To go from being around adults all the time all over the place and hard pressed to find a quiet moment to unemployed talking to cats and dogs and little old ladies every once in a while, and this month there are all the drunks at the rodeo. One guy short some teeth sat there yapping and actually had a stream of drool go down his chin; just wiped it, yapped some more, drooled some more. In any event, not a lot of connectedness or communication.
I don't want any more plants to die. Mango, avocados, kaffir lime, grapefruit, peach, assorted oranges all dead. A few are green on the trunk but brown everywhere else, I guess they'll be dead in a few weeks but I hate to take them out when they're still alive.
I need a new kaffir lime tree, and lemon grass.
I need to do something but I'm afraid --- afraid I don't know what to do, how or why. I want so to get right with god, which I guess requires too I get right with me (is that self-centered or what?) and truly can't get a hold on what I need to do. There's nothing I really need to do that I can pinpoint but at the same time, I know there's tons of stuff needs doing. As in cleaning the house, top to bottom, every corner, which hasn't been done since Ike -- some here and some there, but not a specific top to bottom methodical cleaning. And paint -- I have an idea of some colors I'd like but it's gotten no furher than that. One would think that a person my age without a job could make a plan and execute it, to at least have a totally clean house. I get stuck though on the floors, several of which still have tar on them from the floor replacement after Ike, the only way to clean it is on hands and knees with mineral spirits and everytime I do it the skin comes off my knee and that's not a lot of fun. Still I oughta just do it.
In my head I know things chosen for me by others are not my responsibility ... huh?
Sometimes things get jumbled.
It's easier to migrate elsewhere.
The first option to do nothing and remain whre we are but that's not working so well right now.
Floundering, I guess that's what this is but why?
Aimlessly discomfiting.
Roses, hollyhocks, a handful of potatoes, beans, tomatoes, squash, cukes ready to go in the ground, once I get the grass and weeds cleaned out and the holes dug. Herbs placed but not in the ground. Sweet william. All kinds of seeds of flowers I love, probably they'd bloom this year if I can get them planted soon. Today is rodeo, and Wednesday, and maybe then I can pass over this plane of ambivalence and make a schedule, make myself follow it and just knock this stuff out. I need to and soon --not as badly as I need to find a job but still -- if ever I get another job I won't have all this time to not do stuff so perhaps I oughta kick into gear and just get it done. After all the flowers won't seed themselves.
And coneflowers - I think they all died.
Poetry Blog Digest 2024, Week 47
4 hours ago
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