The mighty pen

I’ve been working the easy level Sudoku puzzles to keep my mind from trailing off into the shadows. It’s the quick, constant change of focus, the process of overlapping lines of restricted areas with simultaneous mental highlighters to find holes where specific numbers fit that keeps my mind occupied. And when the puzzles are easy, I don’t have to think. It’s a meditative process of emptying my mind by distracting it. It quells my anxiety. And there’s a lot of anxiety to quell.

One does all one can, and still the most important things fall through the cracks. If I’m lucky, I can do damage control while the problems go unnoticed. But they rarely go unnoticed.

And this is why one should never brutally condemn another for incompetence. Because sooner or later, human error or limitations will prove one to be equally inadequate.

I suppose I can look on this as additional practice for handling difficult situations with grace. I can’t wish the situation away. I can’t edit the past couple of weeks. Life isn’t an essay. But if it were, I’d write something enchanting and surreal. I’d perfectly juxtapose adrenaline and tranquility.

Like falling out of a blue sky.

I dreamed last night that I did that very thing and landed softly on my feet. I felt at peace.

. . . . . . .

There are things in the world, like jewels hidden to be found, that give life a new dimension. These good bits linger in the background of your thoughts, reminding you that life’s pretty great even when things go sour. Like the scent and taste of honeysuckle and falling through the sky. Like a swarm of fireflies in the blackest night. Enchanting and surreal.

. . . . . . .

Tomorrow has lost its grip on me.

Words are powerful things, are they not?

. . . . . . . . . . .

I have always had more dread of a pen, a bottle of ink, and a sheet of paper, than of a sword or pistol.

-The Count of Monte Cristo, Alexandre Dumas

It is tomorrow’s sword and pistol that should fear. They are all but dead for now.

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Author: uncaged

When Picasso painted a blue Seated Woman in a Chair, he was unconsciously thinking of me.

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