Month: October 2026

A lot of things go sterile

without our realizing it.

I am not who I was a year ago, or two.

Not exactly.

What excited me then

doesn’t excite me anymore,

or to a lesser degree, perhaps.

The relationship changes.

But inevitably we end up with habits and

sometimes it takes a good long time

to realize that you’re not enjoying yourself anymore,

or finding any real pleasure

in what you used to.

*

Sometimes I get the sense

(not very original)

that my life is without meaning

or purpose,

and this idea,

unsurprisingly,

makes me feel pretty sad.

Because, I think,

what work can I point to?

or look at myself

with my own eyes

to prove to myself

that, Yes,

I’ve worked and, voilà,

there’s the proof.

(I just reread

what I’ve written so far

two or three times

and I’m losing steam here.

I don’t know where to go.)

*

The courage

and patience

to keep to my path

as I find it

each hour

each day,

giving

and acting

wherever I am,

the best I can,

true to myself

and to what

and to who

I love,

amen.

There is something in the room.

The weight of the past hour at my back, on my eyes.

In images I wade and choke,

and struggle.

There is something in the air.

The weight of the past week — the screaming, the long hours, what was swallowed.

Something pulls you onward.

The tree and its leaves sway in the reflection of the screen, behind me.

I wait for the next act.

I am not my thoughts… I am perpetual change, motion: like you and all the rest.

Written by hands, a body,

Written by some hours in bed,

Saturday afternoon and a plane overhead,

Light headache,

and the hours behind.

The sky?

A fly at the window,

and the clouds that I look for…

The sky is what frames

every day of every life.

*

What you beat you gain,

if only for that moment;

now there’s rest

or another combat.

*

Are you happy?

No.

I’m writing in bed,

I am at war with myself,

the part of me that,

finding itself alone

and weak

and unsatisfied

with so much,

would go to pieces

again.

I write

because I would win,

if only for this hour,

some peace.

*

Social media

as consumer

is poison;

as action,

as means to an end,

that of giving, serving,

as good

as what we give.

*

This is true elsewhere too, of course.