maybethisname

It's early morning.
Pipe, vanilla tobacco, black coffee.
Emotional ghosts.
My wilderness has woken up from winter.
Birds that sound like rain-forrest birds, going for broke outside.
Whores-bath, shower is broken, pipe frozen and cracked from earlier tempuratures.
Black, shiny shirt, olive slacks, worn dress ankle boots, time to have them resoled. Again.
Unlearning solitude is not easy. Green Man and God both vying for my attention. Maybe they aren't so different, other than one speaks to me, and the other speaks through me.
Can one be proud and serve at the same time?
If you are surrounded by junk, doesn't pride keep you from emulating that junk?
Emulation eventually leads to sincerity, and I sincerely dislike junk.
Sky is bright now, sun refelcting from leaves and water and bark. It is time to get ready for work.
Does taking a whores-bath make me a whore? Not that I'd mind, I guess.
Have a great day.