Jim's Journal

This is my first post.

As I stared at the white box thinking about what to write and trying not to think about how egotistical it is thinking that anyone would enjoy reading it, all I could think of was the comic strip "Jim's Journal."

I'm not sure new strips are being published anymore, but I have to say that the simplicity in the humor was completely perfect. Not only is it funny, but it lives in that everyday "Seinfeld" land that lets most people in on the joke. Jim's a realist, and funny as hell. If I was a true disciple, my first post would read just that: this is my first post. And that would be all.

But. I am not versed enough in writing to be able to convey a point that clearly. This blog is going to be quite a ramble at times, and I do ask your patience- here's to hoping it has a point.

Well. This is something I wrote the other night:

today I am as earthbound as ever.

chained.

boxed in.

locked down with my bare feet sticking closely to the ground, as if the cement is stalking my toes and won't take no for an answer.

jumping?

that is something done for joy, but today I am self-directed- self-employed.

today the only escape is inward; the interior that I have previously attempted to destroy- drink by sip, shot by gulp, gallon by ounce.

do pickled brains sound appetizing? are they an aphrodesiac in japan?

if destruction is some type of fertilizer, then call me a gardener- a steward of people grown from rocky, muddy clay.

if I am destined to create something from nothing, today is the day.

I pretend to be the prophet sitting beneath the tree unmoved by the unholy weather,

by the wind and driving rain- emptying his head and staying as still as stone.

I am like the wanderer walking for weeks with only water waiting for a spirit animal- a vision to ponder.

today I am somber, eyes closed wide and ready- earthbound and steady.

This was my first blog post. It was "ok."