The Next Stage

Is set, one is ready, where Nick Cave can dance, or shimmy, in some tight striped pants and a pink tee shirt. So many forms of drama play out in life, mostly the battles performed in our heads. But those are as real as blood for how often a thought can lead us there anyway.

I’m always cursing my drama, and my face which shows it. An embarrassment that I cannot figure these things out, and that I let any of it hold weight. And then suddenly, a veiled hug is a gesture unintentionally used to wake me up. A gunshot fires in my head. This hug, this hug I’ve felt before, a strangers hug, so intertwined with all my choices and all my relationships. This hug I let happen, this hug of forgiveness.

All my drama subsides to this new thought, one where I can forgive my behavior and lost moods. At least I understand one part of myself a little better. There is no solution, but I can forgive all the crap I’ve done in the process of wondering what the fuck is wrong with me. Hey what the fuck is wrong with you? Because I know you’ve thought it too. What the fuck is wrong with me, how could I make such shitty choices.

I don’t believe that blame is needed for me now. Understanding just a little bit, is all the help I’ve wanted. I doubt I could even put into words this thing I’m referring to, but the feeling is real. A small release of a ghost, before another one is met. And my feet are grateful for the next step forward. Part of me wishes it could be in a pair of Carmel colored Stenson boots. But a re-soled old boot works fine too.


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