I am a fern trapped in a cactus' body.
A fern that yearns.
Obviously that is going to be the title of my Biography.
I go here, move this thing, then pack that thing, then drive stuff around.
Not for paychecks, but to create some semblance of order in my life.
And it gets me nowhere, which in't really true, but it is how it feels.
I am guided by some sort of internal instinct.
I don't plan anything, I write nothing down.
I just wake up and go.
GO! GO! GO!
And then at the end of the going, I lay down to think about what has to get done the next day.
I weave and flow.
I anticipate things two to three moves ahead, and adjust accordingly.
Is this how it is forever?
There is no special thing about me that entitles me to know the future.
I just go.
Carried by the wheels of armageddon.
Fueled by a desire to calm everyone the fuck down.
And also the occasional, well deserved beer and burger combo.
Which is weird because I think of myself as a vegetarian.
But sometimes... sometimes I morph into some kind of organizational savant werewolf.
And... Must.... Have.... Hamburger!!
Been reading things.
Things I shouldn't.
Trying to make sense of this crazy fudged up world.
Spinning wildly out of control.
Isn't that just such a human trait?
Yes, I am.