Monday, August 4, 2008

On my walk.

Self-contained bliss.

Okay! So that's out of my system. Happy!

I'm about to walk to the post office. Walk! Such a concept, the walking to errands. I might walk! to the library, but maybe I'll save that for another day. These are the good things about village life that really do make me happy. Stay focused, Rodent.

I'll take my camera. That cheers me up.

Another very good thing: happy things on the walls. Arts are good.

Love, Loss and the Little House.

I'm staggering, lately, under the weight of what I've cast off. Ironic. I'm laughing wryly.

I want to be happy within myself, regardless of what I have or where I live. I was pretty smug about my self-contained bliss, until I realized how easy it was to be blissful in the stillness of the countryside, in the ease of my big house, in the utter bigness of the vista. What bullshit. Big talk for a little mind, Missy.

Of all things, I can't find room in my life for my plants. My plants meant a lot to me, and now I'm putting them on the curb. FREE: whatever I used to like a lot. Pure crap. Apparently, I don't have a Buddha self, or a Gandhi spirit. I am full of shit.

We have to install some new heating system for the simple pleasure of not having the house smell like piss and shit. Booyah!

The new half-acre yard? Needs a fucking lawn tractor. Because this move has been all about getting simple.

The old house? Still have it. Can't sell it. Still paying for it. Still mowing it. Still maintaining it. Simple! So simple! It's Fuck Me simple!