That's how we say hi in Tennessee sometimes. Some of us anyway. Sounds fake but it's real. There are plenty of things that seem fake in Tennessee, to outsiders.. but they are real. I'd go into a list but I don't want to. I do wear shoes to town, though.
Note that I am adding subtitles again. (A secondary title of explanation for what is about to come, not to be confused with closed-caption subtitles in a movie or something.) Subtitles make me feel more professional even though I'm not very professional as an outside-online person. I am the least professional person you might ever meet, by the way. My Southern accent makes it even worse. You might as well have found me in the back of a barn somewhere, shucking corn in a flannel nightgown.
My 2nd Steemiversary.
Got my notification that it has been 2 years now that I've been on Steemit. Yes, i know it's not ALL called Steemit. But it's what I first originally thought, and it's a hard habit to break to call it just STEEM everywhere. I do it when talking to other people but here I am in my own space, and the blockchain for me is STEEMIT. So, sorry too all the perfectionists. I am enjoying my time in the proverbial sea here.
That sounded moody.
But I suppose I am always moody. We are ALL always moody because otherwise we have no mood at all. You're moody. The world is moody. The world has gone mad. It already was mad, though. I don't have a point, I guess.
Life in the closet
I'm kinda lonely today but not really in the mood to talk to anyone, either. So I guess I'm just like a boat out of water or something. I'm like a tree with too many leaves in the summertime. I don't want to lose my leaves but I don't want them either.
Late night house walks
I wake up late at night and wander around my home thinking about stuff sometimes. I mostly dont get on the computer when that happens. I just eventually sit in a chair in the living room and get lost even farther into my mind. Last night I slept all night because I took a sleeping pill. Sometimes it's just the only way I can sleep. If you don't sleep for a long time, you will eventually drop dead. I AM NOT READY TO DIE. Oh, and speaking of dead people..
Morningtime in the graveyard.
I walked around in an old cemetery with my daughter this morning. Took some pictures. In our opinion it's no different than visiting a historical museum. Except, as my daughter phrased it while we were walking around, "there are just way more dead people in cemeteries." And then I went all creepy and said, "That we know of." As if museums are filled with more dead people than graveyards. Well. Who knows? Do you bring a shovel to museums and dig under the floors to see whose bones might by lying there? I thought not.
Sometimes, there are raccoons.
Sometimes, there are facts.
Sometimes, there are guardians.
Above these words sits a statue of a woman. She sits above Martha. Martha died in 1884. She was 14 years old. For over a century this pretty angel has watched over her. Next Tuesday is the anniversary of her death, actually. I just noticed that. I wonder if she hears me wondering about her.
Do you ever wonder that?
You're walking around the cemetery.. do they know you're there or are they busy with other afterlifely things? I guess one day we all will find out. I like to think they're there. Here.
I like to think that Elliott Smith knows how much I love his music. There were times when I would talk to him, in the past on bad nights. I would play "Between the Bars" every night, a specific video on YouTube. In the beginning he says, "Bars, 3." I would share it here but then I'd be watching it too many times again.
I guess I should go.
A message through a stranger
Here's a video I found on youtube that made me cry. It's from someone I don't know who is named April and who is covering my song, "Staircase." But, get this..it was uploaded it on my Grandad's birthday, which is also in April. I find that coincidence to be not one. My Grandad was very creative and tech savvy as well. Of course he would say hello to me this way. Signs from Beyond are everywhere.
I love you, dear April, my messenger stranger angel with the beautiful voice.
And, now, I will go.
Goodbye to anyone who might read this now or in the future after I am dead and long gone from this unbearable, beautiful, horrifying and magnificently rewarding world.
Farewell.. goodnight.. good morning. Good luck.
p.s. I am writing a lot already this week. The reason is that I am off work for the week, because it is Fall break here. No work because no school. So I have time to write.
Also, here is a color picture, because life has color, and so does this picture, even though it represents death. Here is poetry in motion, standing still.