Well, it’s October, therefore grey.
The Canadiens won on Saturday.
It has been really quiet here at,
bookish butch central.
I went out on Thursday night,
to one of my favourite watering holes,
with one of my favourite women.
I had a great time, we both did.
But, since then, I have felt tired and lethargic.
I doubt the two are related,
it’s just a serious case of the slumps.
I’m in a reading slump, nothing seems to grab me.
I find that disconcerting,
I have a whole pile of To Be Reads,
and yet,
all I can manage is the paper and an occasional essay,
in the James Agee collection.
I’m reading other blogs,
and everyone seems to be zipping through tons of books.
I envy, that.
Maybe, I’m just too preoccupied.
I have been thinking about instinct.
I used to be much more instinctual,
listening to the little voice inside my head.
In the past couple of years,
I’m not sure why but,
I’ve started ignoring it,
and making more sensible choices.
I know there is nothing wrong with sensible,
it keeps you safe and relatively happy.
I used to be, I think,
more fearless.
It could also be that,
I am remembering things in a better light.
A sort, of fear has started creeping up on me,
fear of tomorrow, of the unknown, of being hurt.
When fear sets in you stop taking chances,
you go the safe route,
you become complacent and settle for less,
you stop searching for what really makes you tick.
Fear, can save your life but, it can also stifle it.
Instead of listening to yourself,
underneath all the white noise,
you take advice and you do things that seem more logical.
But, you know it’s not about sensible and safe.
It’s about the search and the journey,
what if we only go around once, won’t we regret not going for it.
I think I would.
So, I’m trying to listen to my little voice,
maybe it can tell me what to do,
or maybe I’ll keep just keep looking.
Just so you all know,
October/November and February/March
are often existential months for me.
You have been warned.
Later girls
BB
