i’ve lost the passion

Most days I think that I am ok. I think what I’m doing is what I’m supposed to be doing, that what I’m doing means something. Then I watch this dance show, this dance show that my friend thinks is ridiculous, this dance show that I relate to…and I realize I’m not okay because most days I feel NOTHING. I watch this show and watch these dancers perform, watch these dancers feel, watch these dancers live and breathe and I realize I am falling flat. I don’t feel that. I don’t feel half of that on any given day…okay, maybe on some days. I’m okay on the days I get out of my head and stop thinking, the days I am completely misbehaving. But why is it that we are taught that we shouldn’t feel that way all the time? We should feel that way ALL the time no matter what we are doing. I guess this is why i run, this is why i write, this is why i dance at 2 in the morning by myself, why i scream out back under the moon, why i look to the boy to hold me up, why i look for something to take my breath away.

wishful thinking

I’m proud of myself this morning. I get up on time, leave the house on time and expect to get to work a little early. Yea…I don’t think I’m meant to get to work on time anymore (thanks B for passing that on to me). Apparently they are doing construction they were not doing yesterday. How I am supposed to know to leave early if they don’t tell me about the new construction is beyond me.

So at this point I’m driving…okay creeping…along behind this biker. A real biker…not one of those RUBs (rich urban bikers). He is looking frustrated, switching lanes and and trying to see around cars. Before I know it he hops onto the shoulder and takes off. I think “damn what an ass…how does he figure he can do that just because he is on a motorcycle.”

Then, about a half mile ahead we pass under a bridge and there he is. He rode up under this bridge, parked his bike, got out a beverage and lit a cigarette. He was waving at us as us office drones passed by and damn how I wished I was him.