Here we are. I’m another year older. Perhaps not wiser.

No. Wisdom is fleeting.

Spent most of the day with my favorite girls. Enjoyed some of the most glorious sleep of my life. May have even begun planning a return to the nomadic lifestyle.

There really aren’t many constants in life. And if you can come up with more than I can, you can probably break them down to fit into two... maybe even just one category.

Disappointment. And change.

Change is absolute. Nothing now is the same as it was two minutes ago.

Disappointment? Well, as I think about it, disappointment is the effect of change. We expect something. It didn’t happen (quite as expected, at all, etc.).

At any rate, I’m not dead. Perhaps that final disappointment is truly waiting for me to actually write something meaningful.

And I have been writing. Some original content. Some notes that mean something to me that I’m saving to put into my own words. Some notes only intended for my beloved’s eyes.

Is she becoming my beloved? Is she already? Yes, she is my beloved. I will likely never know if I am hers, however.

The way she looks at me, it’s unmistakable. She can’t always believe I am real. Believe me, sweetheart, I think the same thing when I look at you.

Yet, she’s afraid. Very. Perhaps fear is a constant in life as well... and that is worth revisiting at some point.

She’s afraid to surrender to love. Those scant moments when she does, the current that flows through our skin is sensational. Truly electric.

She’s afraid she will ruin my life. Yes, there are consequences to our past decisions, and yes, we haven’t dealt with a lot of those yet. I am perfectly capable of ruining my own life, thank you.

To be honest, I fear I have ruined my life to the point where I don’t want you to have a part of it.

Until I watch your beautiful body as you walk out of the room... and back in a few moments later... and I don’t want you anywhere else either.

Damn. Are you for real?

Anyway, this new year has the potential to be the most trying—and the most rewarding yet. For both of us.

If only, I could get a hot shower...

Capricorn season has arrived. Time to shine!

There’s a reason we’re the GOAT, after all.

So, I’ve had a casual interest in star signs, yet never really a deep dive. However, since I’ve been seeing a Scorpio who’s a true believer... well, the algorithm has caught on to that and I’ve learned more about horoscopes than I ever could have imagined. For better... or for worse.

And somehow, this affirms that we’re a really good fit. Not just physically.

That, and our birthdays are next to each other on the commonality list. I’m № 282, she’s № 283... an uncommon miracle.

Enough nonsense for today. Make way!

Twice in two months. I seem to be devolving into a vessel for disease. After nearly two years illness free.

I suppose this is how life goes.

It’s been ages since I’ve used a common cold as inspiration to write, yet I’ve been allowing ideas to stack up in my head with no release. Like a pressure cooker. So, now is as good a time as any.

Better than using a cordless drill to open up these clogged sinuses, no?

Perhaps this illness is manifest. Stress related. Okay, maybe not. I don’t feel stressed. My blood pressure is as low as it’s ever been. And my sleep largely unaffected.

Yeah, I’m stuck. It feels like I’ve returned to a third world country. I can use a lot more money. And while I enjoy this young woman I’m spending so much time with, I question whether or not she’s truly my girl.

The way she looks at me. The sensation of her touch. The softness of her kiss. The calm I feel when she’s near... unlike anything I’ve felt before. Yet, we have so much still unsaid...

So, for now, it’s time to work on me. A neo-philosophical life. One where I can sit and read and write all day. And make stupid money doing so. All while being increasingly aware of my present. And letting go of my thoughts. Lose my mind and come to my senses.

That is one benefit of illness. Struggling to take each breath. The chapped lips. The swollen airways. Makes you appreciate life. Without thinking about it.

It is hard to think about stupid shit when you can’t breathe. When you’re in pain.

Okay, maybe not... considering the desperation has me contemplating that drill. For the second time in the last ten minutes. Or a menthol-coated straw forced up my nostril. Breathe! Breathe!

There’s no time to rest. I’ve an empire to build!

What i'm listening to:

i like the way you kiss me
Artemas
yustyna