So work is last on my mind but first on a list of things to do this morning. I'm really starting to think that my pen is starving for attention. See me and my notebooks broke up last night. No worries it is the first of many occassions when poetic reference takes a back seat to wayward youth infused journeys and really, I just want to walk around aimlessly for a day. Or two. I get bored with routines and thats what this poetry thing is starting to look more and more like everyday.
Real Talk::
I am hitting some form of wall where language seems to be foreign and everyone looks at me like I got a plan. Truth, I'm just writing because I have something to say, well, God has something to say and as a vessel I often lose my place in the whole "plan" thing.
This I am sure about; we all hate facing the facts that we really dont know whats in store for us...if anything is for us at all. Don't get me wrong, I AM NOT A RELIGIOUS PERSON, I am however a spiritual one and my relationship with God is one of my own understanding.
Simple enough?
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