24 Oct 2009
I am making an honest attempt to weave thru fatigue and negativity of my current double clutching endeavors. Had strange awakening epiphany satori daydream this morning while maneuvering 18 wheeler through crowded highway construction zone...sudden awareness of all things as they are...mindful of mortar between dilapidated building bricks, green stem shoots thru cracked sidewalk, reflection of October sky in somber mud puddle, infinite carcinogenic universes in cigarette ash lip-dangle. Suddenly every single thing shuddered with its own pulsing energy life. Nothing right…nothing wrong or bad or good. Just me here now with giant wheel grasped at 10 and 2 o'clock. Traffic signals flash in swirl of pedestrian shuffle and automobile mindless afternoon hurries.
Button up. Throttle down thru clear alley of illusion mind.
Met fella today who came ambling in Andy Capp hat with submarine sandwich tucked under his arm. Dripping cucumbers and bread crumbs he told of his two years spent homeless with wife and three kids living in car. We made humble agreement that there is no such thing as a coincidence. No such thing as luck. The red lights of life that stop me today may prevent and protect me from the twisted metal of tomorrow's mistakes.
“Bullshit ain’t nothing but chewed up grass.” -- the Andy Capp hat guy (didn’t catch his name).
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The Aspiring Writer 9.2: Grant Wamack:
by Chris Lambert
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