I'm a warm body to occupy a seat on certain days during particular hours. I'm no more different than the Stay In Lane sign I speed past on certain days during particular hours. I am not wired to think of weeks. I'm galactically dense on how to view life as 3 squares, 6 packs, 9 lies, 12 gates. Hard to be grounded when all is up in the air. The pair of dimes I keep in my pocket lets me know what's real. I've got my lucky scars to thank for that.
Posted in Gratitude, Identity, Luck, Moments, Mystery, Observations, Perception, Reality, Scars, Self, Solitude, The Journey, Time, Truth, Work
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