In the Pressure Cooker
Dammit! It still feels like its January 1 (I’ve been bumming out THAT long. Hell, January 1 even feels like it was November!) and I’m still inside the proverbial pressure cooker. Yeah, its insulated and quite damp in the inside with the dandiness of the expanding air choking you, but sometimes, SOMETIMES, you just would LOVE to jump out of that world and feel the stove’s flames. Its been a crazy ride here in AZ lately, especially when you feel the true pinch of POVERTY — hunger and the diesease of Want.
I’ve finally received the approval of my extension here, but I’ll be back soon. Quite so soon. I’m not sure if I’d return to the open arms of the people or a wave of criticism for such an UNPRODUCTIVE EXISTENCE here (unless you consider finishing a few books, some poems, and polishing up rehashed ideas productive, then I guess I was as constructive as a cow being fattened up for the slaughter).
So, do I hate my existence? Not really. I just need to be disciplined again and taste the blood of everyday living. I’d want to be in another pressure cooker! That is, after this beef is slaughtered again.
