We have no idea if the squirrels are happy. Or / if anyone is.

Human supremacy is
assuming the squirrels are happy.

We have no idea

if the squirrels are

having a good time,

or

if anyone is.

Sometimes I struggle

to find an outfit

that matches  the day.

So far

my best option

smells like the thrift store.

Now that I’m going off Prozac,

I think someone else

might have to

take out
the recycling.

Hormone curation,

myoclonic jerks.

These seem fewer,

but I feel more inclined

to be grumpy.

When I get old,

I hope there is time

to watch the squirrels

carry bagels

across telephone wires.

 

Telephone wires,

and clotheslines,

though by then all the telephone wires

will be buried underground.  

Who knows what will happen to the clotheslines.

 

Time for the squirrels,

and a window.

And jigsaw puzzles.

 

I will not die of loneliness,

but this may seem surprising.

We have no idea

if the squirrels are happy.

Or

if anyone is.

The End.

This outfit matches the day
better than the others.
It does not smell
like the thrift store.


Exuberant Bodhisattva on Facebook
Twitter: @mypelvicfloor
I Let Go

Bodhisattva Business Ventures:

Deep Cleans by Erica J. Schmidt (@deepcleanswitherica)
Montreal Hippie Threads (@mtlhippiethreads)
Instagram: montrealhippiethreads


First no boundaries on the Internet. Then Psychotic Break.
This was my calling on the corner of Rue Boucher and Rue Drolet just around yesterday's sunset on Friday, March 17
Rumplestiltskin


Five Days of Creative Recovery

I Do Not Know How To Fulfill My Enormous Potential

I Do Not Know How to Fulfill My Enormous Potential.

Two titles for Unwritten Books:

"How to Fulfill Your Enormous Potential."

Or,

"I Don’t Let Go, the Sequel to the Only Self-Help Book You Ever Needed."

Erica J. Schmidt Does Not Let Go. I do not.

All the books are about the Two Stubborn Parts.

One Stubborn Part says, “You will fail all the life report cards.” The check marks will fall on the most mediocre boxes. She did not fulfill, and she was not fulfilled.

Stubborn Part Two says, “Please let me be Okay As Is. I want this desperately. Long for it. Okay As Is, OAI equals Enough.”

You don’t need to be Coherent. You don’t need to Manifest Aspirations. We’re just happy you’re still alive.

Did I love the Married Man as soon as I met him? No.

Am I ovulating? Yes.

Sometimes there is no space around how you are feeling. I tend to melt down every Monday and Friday. Mostly I’m just about done before noon.

The Astrologist who doesn’t want to be my Cuddle Friend suggests that I rename my meltdowns.

Name your Wounds. Rename your Meltdowns. Meltdown equals A Rebirth.

So you’re reborn every Monday and Friday? And why not.

Is Irving Layton dead yet? What will Obama do now?

Oh Irving. Oh Leonard. Oh Margaret and Obama.
Oh and oh and oh.

And oh.

I am not focussing on the breath behind my navel. I am holding the Sharpie. They run out so quickly.

Vincent is my therapist and he had never heard the English phrase, Navel Gazing. All this time did he think it was Belly Button Gazing?

Sharpie outlines Sex and Self-Esteem/Navel Chakras

How old is Vincent and what does he do on Saturdays?

 

Privacy. Pathology.

The clotheslines are on Sabbatical. I think I will lie down and stare at them. Are they in the grey skies, or below?

 

Pre-Sabbatical Clotheslines

Most people don’t get to fulfill their innermost potential.

They feel hungry and tired and lonely and horny and poor.
They feel these things, or they are these things.

They do not get to vacillate between lattes.

The End.

Exuberant Bodhisattva on Facebook
Twitter: @mypelvicfloor
I Let Go

Bodhisattva Business Ventures:
 
Deep Cleans by Erica J. Schmidt (@deepcleanswitherica)
Montreal Hippie Threads (@mtlhippiethreads)
Instagram: montrealhippiethreads

The O's in the Toto have Hats
Five Days of Creative Recovery
Deep Unyielding Depression, Part One