As I sit staring at the blue orchid I know it, the flowers will die and be replaced by pink and white blossoms.
And I think about too early and too late.
I feel sad, because the people who read this and think it might help them understand always come away more confused.
My journals are slightly more private, slightly.
But how could I be any more provocative?
In my mind people I've known want me to explain things to them.
My lovers, friends, family, psychiatrists, therapists, co-workers and now I just shake my head and sigh.
I would rather be doing something else.
I feel like people want to excavate me and I'm not even dead!
I feel more prepared for death now, but certainly not ready.
If I'm not supposed to change, then what's the point?
God given rights make me go faster.
I'm my master.
It's a disaster.
An amazing disaster.
And the bear kept me company all night. I woke up next to him.
His brown hair reminds me of you.
I slept really well beside him, holding him.
And just because he plays a maraca tune you want to return him for a better version.
There was something funny and unsettling about it, but it's nothing.
Since I have commitments and things I need to do other than provide material for you...
I'm going, but I won't be gone long.
Until the next installment.
The next round.
And I'll be thinking about 11:11...in my mind the ultimate number ONE.