Haiku:
sweaty combat class
shower, pouring rain, these are
all places to hide.
_______________
Lyrics on the way to the gym...just like a one-winged dove....even the best fall down sometimes, even wrong words seem to rhyme, stars refuse to shine.....joke was on me, cold, hard ground...(reminds me, yes, the joke was on me. why does a mind & a heart refuse to believe what it doesn't want to believe?) Then at the gym, 3 songs by Fall Out Boy. Feeling like Fall Out Girl here.
New and old techniques in combat class: e-kick, ascending & descending elbow strikes, baller brawl, or is it ball brawler, or just brawler, i dunno, more complex karate combos: punch, guard, back kick, knee...
"Imagine your opponent...target the nose, lip, and chin.." (oh yes, I'm imagining it...don't even get me started!) Feeling especially mean today. Like the fire in me for fighting is no longer sweetened with niceness. nope. goodbye miss nice guy. ok, i'm still nice for my kids & my kitties, a few others, but today, i'm seeing the bad & the ugly side.
Why do I even do this? I can stop certain habits, but this one, I can't stop it. It's like I'm a muse to myself. Gotta throw my words out there. It's a faith thing. Like prayer. I know there's a God up there who hears my prayers and cares. And somehow I like to believe that there's a kindred spirit out there who hears and cares about this garbage, too. Even a complete stranger in Botswana or Tokyo or Berlin. doesn't matter. I really should start writing novels. Fiction about criminals, murder, adventure, death, emotional drama, get this stuff out of my head and into anonymous characters who don't really exist. But sometimes truth is stranger than fiction.
And time for another expensive conversation. At least one real person hears me. and cares.
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