\ -aciloquence

I am indulgent in my daydreams, fueled by the reading of old letters and pen at the ready to write my own future in the stars, sharpen my sting. Gotta knock myself over with some underlying truth, remember what I was like a decade a-go, hopefully not angry. I like thinking about myself fresh-faced and curious, even reprimanded for walking the halls way past bed-time, would like to think I was precocious and more interesting than I was, but where would I be now were that really true?

Gotta think where I'm going from time-to-time, even if ah am not committed to it, not wedded to it, not death til parted from it, just because I can't establish a relationship with God. With no afterlife, I better good and well plan for the here and now. Keep driving, 4 years running, past an old man in the town of Roy, always stands along the side of the road, cause it's one of those towns where the general store porch got its foundation drilled right into the highway. He waves, and if you don't wave back, there is a very real chance that the next time you wet your whistle, un-parch your parch-ness in this old saloon, a couple of cowpokes will rustle you up a can of western cat fight. Or spit in yer griddle. Shoot some bitchy looks your way, the very least.

I left the wrong story sitting up on my desktop, goddamnit, got asked about it. "So the wild rice urn was a gift to cover some in-dis-cretion?" Eyebrow eyeing, lashes lashing, dashes dashed.

"It's an allegory."

It must be. I can't lie worth a damn.