Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

i miss writing. i miss the solemn discontent of the road.

i am still the same yet so much has changed. i have responsibility.
i have bills, a wife, a child, and a job where i am totally depended upon by people.

i cannot walk away from what i have made.

this is new. this is odd. i am not scared. i am busy.

i still drink a many more beer than those who aren't my wife would even guess. i am a ghost visible to everyone at work. i am a "boss"

since the birth of Ruby i have been altered. since i saw her brought to us through the portal of creation, i have not faltered.

i go to her room, i watch her sleep. she is the beauty i exactly made her for. she kicks, scatters her eye lids. i know love.

i hate going to work, i would be soul happy on a bus or train or passenger to the nearest town. i havent caught a wave in three years and its killing me so softly.

but i cant. i cant drop material things and run. i am a husband, father, a real man of responsibility. i love my girls. i am a good boss.
on all levels, the keeper of people bouncing chaotic ignorant.

Nothing to do with you
but you got me thinking of the lonesome traveller
the proto typical dharma bum

so many beautiful words
I used to be saddened by
the story of his daughter Jan Kerouac if Jack was memory babe she was the "baby driver"

I used to call her Iphigenia after the charcter in Homer's poem about troy I think.

a daughter sacrificed to appease the gods, kind of like the Greek version of Isaac I suppose.

Sorry for the ramble

speaking of dates
the thirty third of august, I always like that mickey newberry song but I can't find a version I like.

I am looking forward to November, the time change is still throwing me for a loop.

Not much I can say that relates to your post, I am a tumbleweed, a brother and an uncle as close as I can get to not leaving.

but down deep
or is it far off in remote consciouness

the road was my life for so long

so long