this beautiful mess

I've spent much of the last few weeks rolling in the mud. The sticky kind, with giant globs of solids, good for throwing at whomever is close at hand. It's comfortable and uncomfortable at the same time - comfortable because it holds you with a real grip, uncomfortable because it won't let go. Then again, who's trying to move?

but then it's easy to make metaphors about life at four o'clock in the morning when no one else is looking. And I better make this quick cause Dad will be up in about 20 minutes to get the coffee perking.

Anyway - that's how life's been in danville lately. sticky. messy. slow. And I don't say much, although, I still have been known to be a good listener. Besides, you wouldn't want to hear me bitch about work (I got a promotion last week,) or talk about family tragedy (my grandma had a mild stroke.) There's always ups and downs -- comedy and tragedy, and what we're looking for is an adventure.

Well, there's no adventure here.

That's the sum of it. I'm not wrestling it at all -- just sinking further in the mire. Rolling around in it a bit, enjoying this beautiful mess that we call life. I'm sure, before you know it, I'll be springing up and singing of new-fangled ideas of granduer. I've done it before.

Until then, I've a few more things that I have to figure out. Hope you have peace in your life.

now, to sleep -- goodnight.

-dboy.